Finding Christmas
by KJaneway115
Summary: After Admiral Janeway's visit from the future, Janeway and Chakotay struggle to shape new lives and find the true meaning of home. An Endgame rewrite.
1. PROLOGUE

_A/N: A million thanks to Mizvoy for the speedy and detailed editing... you are a star and I couldn't do all this without you. And many thanks to Vestal Virgin for the story brainstorming help. This story is my Christmas gift to all my fellow VAMBies! Merry Christmas!_

* * *

 **FINDING CHRISTMAS**

 **By KJaneway115**

* * *

 _ **PROLOGUE**_

 _December 24, 2403_

The street bustled with activity. Shoppers carrying multiple packages hurried down the sidewalk, popping into one last store to buy one last gift for little Johnny or little Susie, or whoever had been a good boy or girl that year. The sounds of carols wafted onto the sidewalk, and the smells of roasted chestnuts and hot mulled cider permeated the air.

"Excuse me," said Admiral Kathryn Janeway as she tried to make her way through a crowd gathered on the street.

"Oh, I'm sorry," replied an elderly Bolian as he made room for her to pass. "Merry Christmas!"

"Thanks," she replied brusquely, and hurried past. She did not stop to buy peppermint hot cocoa, nor was she carrying any parcels. She did not pause to listen to the children's choir singing carols in the park, nor respond to the jolly fellow who called after her, "Only a few more trees left, ma'am! Do you have your Christmas tree yet?"

 _Christmas_ , she thought. _What a silly, antiquated tradition._ It was based on a religious story that no longer had a place in her scientific mind. She felt a minor annoyance that it caused her walk home through one of San Francisco's shopping districts to be so crowded with people. She turned down her own quiet street and breathed a sigh of relief. She could now walk the remaining blocks to her home without having to fight through crowds. Many of the buildings on her street were adorned with colored lights and holiday decorations. What a waste of time, she thought. There were decorated Christmas trees illuminated in several of her neighbors' windows, but she walked past them quickly, anxious to get home after a long day at work.

"Katie!" she heard a small voice cry out, and Kathryn stopped. "Katie, it's this way to Flotter's enchanted forest."

She looked around, trying to understand where the small voice was coming from, and she then saw a young girl standing in the front yard of one of the houses on her street. The girl looked like she was around five years old, with dark hair in pigtails. A moment later, young Katie appeared, the older sister, apparently. "That's not the way, Samantha," she said. "Come on, follow me. Before we can reach the enchanted forest, we have to go through the Dungeons of Doom!" The older girl led her sister to the side of the house where there was a stone path. The two girls crept along the path, and their voices faded until all Kathryn could hear was giggles.

Until she'd heard the younger sister's name, Kathryn had almost been transported back to a time when she and Phoebe had played pretend in their yard. Of course, the San Francisco townhouse was nothing like the big Indiana farmhouse where she'd grown up, and San Francisco was nothing like Bloomington, Indiana. Still, something was familiar about the lighted windows, the decorated Christmas tree, the mantle adorned with pine garland and the sound of the girls playing in the yard. It made Kathryn long for a simpler time, a time when she hadn't been able to wait for Christmas, and the tree and the decorations had meant endless excitement and joy.

The door of the house opened and a woman surveyed the yard. "Katie, Samantha, dinner time!" she called. Kathryn turned back to the sidewalk, not wanting the woman to think she was behaving strangely. She glanced back at the house in time to see the girls run into their mother's arms, laughing and hugging her as she ushered them inside.

Kathryn turned away, focusing on the sidewalk and not stopping again until she reached her apartment building, two blocks down. It was a modern high rise, and her apartment overlooked the city, the Golden Gate Bridge and Starfleet Headquarters. She hung her coat on the peg by the door and kicked off her boots. She ordered a meal from the replicator, and then sat down at her kitchen table to eat, a PADD in hand. There were no signs of Christmas in her apartment - no decorations, no colorfully wrapped packages, no holiday cookies. The next day would be Christmas, but it would be just another day for Admiral Kathryn Janeway. For her, the only important party of the year had taken place four days earlier, on the ninth anniversary of _Voyager_ 's homecoming.

Each year, it became harder for her to attend the party with a smiling face. She had thought that the first year would be the hardest, seeing the crew together but not haveing him there. She'd thought, at the time, that it could never get more difficult than that first year, but she was wrong. Instead of getting easier with the passing of time, it seemed that each year, the holidays became more and more lonely. Her meal had lost its flavor, and she pushed the half-empty plate away. She walked to the window and looked up at the stars. "Nine years," she whispered. "Nine years without you. I once told you I couldn't imagine even a day…"

Her mother had passed away, and Phoebe had moved to be near her husband's family, several days' journey from Earth. Kathryn had been invited to spend Christmas with them several times, but she always begged off with an excuse, usually work. She preferred to ignore the holidays altogether. The memories were too painful. Sometimes, she thought that the worst memories were the happy ones. She couldn't bear to remember the good times, good times that were gone and would never come again.

During her twenty-three years in the Delta Quadrant, she had wondered whether there was a limit to the pain one person could bear. She had learned since that there wasn't. It was a testament to the strength of the human spirit, how much one could hurt and still go on. But sometimes she wished that she hadn't been tested quite so much. She had survived, but when she took the time to examine the person she had become, she didn't like that person at all.

"You tried to save me, didn't you?" she asked, looking up at the stars again. "You tried to save me from myself, but I didn't listen. If only I could go back, Chakotay. If I only I could go back and make things different." She felt tears well up in her eyes, and she reached out to clutch the back of a nearby chair. "I don't want to spend one more Christmas like this." Her knuckles turned white as she clutched the back of the chair, and her tears fell onto her hands and the soft fabric.


	2. 1

**_1_**

 _December 20, 2378_

Admiral Kathryn Janeway was still having a hard time believing that her plan had worked. She was on _Voyager_ , in the Delta Quadrant. Chakotay was alive. Seven was alive. She herself hadn't felt so alive in over ten years. And her younger self, the stubborn, self-righteous Captain Janeway, was going to ruin everything. "This is a waste of time," she said, exasperated. "The shielding for those manifolds is regulated from the central nexus by the Queen herself. You might be able to damage one of them, maybe two. But by the time you moved onto the third, she'd adapt."

"There may be a way to bring them down simultaneously," argued the captain.

"From where, inside the hub?" replied the admiral. " _Voyager_ would be crushed like a bug."

"What about taking the conduit back to the Alpha Quadrant and then destroying the structure from the other side?" Chakotay suggested.

"This hub is here," Admiral Janeway shot back. "There's nothing in the Alpha Quadrant but exit apertures. While you're all standing around dreaming up fantasy tactical scenarios, the Queen is studying her scans of our armor and weapons. And she's probably got the entire Collective working on a way to counter them. So take the ship back into that nebula and go home before it's too late."

The admiral didn't miss the glance exchanged between captain and first officer as she told him, "Find a way to destroy that hub." Then the captain turned to her older counterpart. "Let's take a walk."

The admiral let her gaze linger on Chakotay for just a moment before she followed the captain out of the briefing room and into the corridor.

"I want to know why you didn't tell me about this," said the captain.

"Because I remember how stubborn and self-righteous I used to be. I figured you might try to do something stupid."

"We have an opportunity to deal a crippling blow to the Borg. It could save millions of lives."

"You don't understand, Captain. Last year, I vowed that I wouldn't spend another… another year like that. I've devoted the last ten years to figuring out a way to get _Voyager_ home earlier. Ever since…" The admiral trailed off.

The captain didn't seem to notice her hesitancy. She was too wrapped up in her own anger. "Maybe we should go back to sickbay."

"Why? So you can have me sedated?"

"So I can have the Doctor reconfirm your identity. I refuse to believe I'll ever become as cynical as you."

"Am I the only one experiencing déjà vu here?" the admiral asked.

"What are you talking about?"

"Seven years ago you had the chance to use the Caretaker's array to get _Voyager_ home. Instead, you destroyed it."

The captain swallowed hard. The admiral certainly knew how to play on her guilt. "I did what I knew was right."

"You chose to put the lives of strangers ahead of the lives of your crew. You can't make the same mistake again."

"You got _Voyager_ home," the captain argued, "which means I will too. If it takes a few more years then that's…"

"Seven of Nine is going to die," the admiral cut off her younger counterpart abruptly, knowing this would get her attention. It did. Captain Janeway stopped dead in her tracks.

"What?"

"Three years from now. She'll be injured on an away mission. She'll make it back to Voyager, and die in the arms of her husband."

"Husband?" asked the captain.

The admiral watched the captain's face carefully. "Chakotay," she said. Captain Janeway looked as though she'd been punched in the gut. The admiral pursed her lips, remembering feeling the same way when she had discovered Chakotay's relationship with Seven. "He'll never be the same after Seven's death, and neither will you," the admiral continued.

"If I know what's going to happen, I can avoid it."

"Seven isn't the only one. Between this day and the day I got _Voyager_ home, I lost twenty two crew members. And then of course there's Tuvok."

"What about him?"

"You're forgetting the Temporal Prime Directive, Captain."

"The hell with it."

"Fine. Tuvok has a degenerative neurological condition that he hasn't told you about. There's a cure in the Alpha Quadrant, but he doesn't get it in time. Even if you alter Voyager's route, limit your contact with alien species, you're going to lose people. But I'm offering you a chance to get all of them home safe and sound today. Are you really going to walk away from that?"

The admiral recognized the set of the jaw, the determination in the eyes and the fear in the heart of her younger self. "There has to be another way," Captain Janeway said.

...

Admiral Janeway sat in the messhall, contemplating what she'd seen earlier that day. She'd watched the senior staff all go along and agree with her younger self. She'd watched the young, idealistic Harry Kim say, "Maybe it's not the destination that matters. Maybe it's the journey. And if that journey takes a little longer so we can do something we all believe in, I can't think of any place I'd rather be, or any people I'd rather be with." She'd wanted to reply, _You fool!_ But Harry was right about one thing, there was no better group of people to be with. He just didn't understand what it would be like to live for so many years without them, to make the choice you thought was safe only to discover that you'd be responsible for so many more deaths. Looking at herself and her crew as they had been thirty-three years earlier, she was also starting to wonder whether this was the moment where she'd taken a wrong turn. Her decision to avoid the Borg had been for the safety of her crew, but it had been a decision made out of fear, and, looking back at her younger self, she was realizing that she was not the type to make decisions out of fear. At least, she didn't used to be.

She walked to the replicator, about to order her usual cup of tea, but on the spur of the moment, she changed her mind. The doors to the messhall opened as she said, "Coffee, black."

"I thought you gave it up," her own voice answered her.

"I've decided to revive a few of my old habits," the admiral replied, making her way back to the couch.

"Oh?" asked the captain. "What else, besides the coffee?"

"Oh, well. I used to be much more idealistic. I took a lot of risks. I've been so determined to get this crew home for so many years that I think I forgot how much they loved being together, and how loyal they were to you. It's taken me a few days to realize it. This is your ship, your crew. Not mine. I was wrong to lie to you, to think I could talk you out of something you'd set your mind to."

"You were only trying to do what you thought was right for all of us."

"No… I was acting out of fear. Something I've become far too accustomed to doing. And it started here, when I refused to go back to that nebula thirty-three years ago. Everything started here."

"Everything," the captain echoed. "You mean whatever happened between you and Chakotay. You mean his relationship with Seven."

The admiral's head snapped up, but she didn't reply.

A long silence stretched between them before the captain spoke again. "He's dead, isn't he?"

The admiral looked up at her younger self, and she could see the captain steeling herself against the answer to her question, could see how much it pained her to even ask. But the admiral didn't want to talk about _him_.

"I can see it in your face when you look at him."

Still, the admiral didn't answer, looking into her coffee cup and taking a sip of the steaming brown liquid instead. She didn't like to talk about him. It was too painful, too hard to speak his name, too hard to remember, even after all these years. She had thrown Seven and Tuvok in the captain's face, knowing that would manipulate her into listening. But not him. Well, not in that way, anyway. She had used his name only to answer the captain's question about Seven's future husband. She didn't like to think about that, either. But at least when they had gotten married they had both been alive. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Chakotay," the captain said, her voice cracking. "He's dead in your timeline?"

The admiral could tell that Captain Janeway was working to maintain a tone of clinical detachment. There was no clinical detachment in her voice when she replied, "Yes."

The captain sat beside the admiral on the couch. "When? How?"

"If you're asking me so you can avoid it in your timeline, forget it."

Even the immovable captain's voice shook when she replied, "That's not why I'm asking, and you know it."

The admiral sighed. She supposed that while she was reviving old habits, she might as well make honesty with herself one of them. "I told you earlier that neither of us was ever the same after Seven's death. I felt... I felt terribly guilty for sending her on that away mission, even though there was no way I could have known what would happen. I felt that her death was on my shoulders. Only you know, Captain, how dear to me Seven of Nine is. I had seen her through so much, watched her grow into such a fine young woman, and then for her to die in such a senseless way..."

"It must have been terrible for you," the captain whispered.

"It was. It was terrible. Chakotay tried to do what he had always done. He tried to help me, to make my burdens lighter. But I shut him out." She looked pointedly at her younger self. "Even more than you do now. And in my selfish obsession with my own pain, I couldn't see how badly he was hurting, too. Couldn't see how if I just let him in, let him help me, that it would have helped him." She paused, taking a long breath and collecting her thoughts. She had never shared this with anyone. "I don't know exactly what Chakotay felt for me as the years went on," the admiral continued. "I think that... I think I wanted him to hate me, for what I had done to Seven, for what I had done to him, what I had done to us. But he couldn't. Somehow, when he looked at me with those dark, sad, knowing eyes, there was still love there, even after everything I had done to drive him away, and I couldn't face that. There were moments, brief moments, when we were happy, even after Seven's death, but they were short lived, and I could never enjoy them because I knew how quickly they would be gone, or overshadowed by something terrible. I could only feel guilt for my happiness. Chakotay carried me, those last few years in the Delta Quadrant, and I never realized how heavy his burden was."

The admiral was too absorbed in her story to notice the tears gathering in the captain's eyes, or the tremor in her voice when she asked, "And then?"

"We got home sixteen years from today. December 20, 2394. There were debriefings and a brief quarantine while we were all thoroughly examined to make sure we were really who we claimed to be and all that. On Christmas Eve, Starfleet hosted a grand party for us and our families. Chakotay came to the party that night. I noticed that he didn't look well. I even asked him how he was feeling. Later, I realized I should have seen it much earlier. Months, maybe even years earlier. He told me he was just tired. I don't think any of us knew how sick he was. He stayed long enough to wish every member of the crew a Merry Christmas. Then he went home, saying he just needed to rest. Three days later, he was gone. I never even got to say goodbye."

"He kept his promise," the captain whispered, not noticing the tears that were running down her own cheeks. "He kept his promise to stay by your side until Voyager was home."

"He did," replied the admiral, feeling long suppressed emotions start to rise up in her throat. "He kept his promise, and then he couldn't carry the burden any longer. He had no purpose left, I guess." The admiral noticed the expression of shock on her counterpart's face. "He had lost Seven, he had lost me. He had given so much of himself to all of us, and then we were home, and I think there was nothing left for him. I had pushed him away for so long that he had no reason to expect that we'd have any relationship at all after _Voyager_. And Seven was gone, and…"

"And he had no reason to go on," the captain whispered, unable to picture her strong, steady first officer in such a state. But the haunted look in the admiral's eyes told her that the story was true. "You told me about Tuvok and Seven," the captain realized aloud, "but really, you came back to save Chakotay just as much as them."

Admiral Janeway nodded. "And myself. I'd been thinking about it for years, how to get _Voyager_ home earlier, but last year on Christmas Eve, I was sitting at my kitchen table examining my life, and I realized how much I disliked the person I've become. I vowed to myself that I wouldn't spend another Christmas like that."

"Well, you have a few more days to make this Christmas very different," said the captain, wiping at her cheeks and managing a smile.  
The admiral nodded. "I wanted to tell you that you've changed my mind. I'd like to help you carry out your mission. Maybe together we can increase our odds."

"Maybe we can do more than that," replied the captain with a glint in her eye. "There's got to be a way to have our cake and eat it too."  
"We can't destroy the hub and get _Voyager_ home."

"Are you absolutely sure about that?" the captain asked.

The admiral leaned back against the couch. "There might be a way. I considered it once, but it seemed too risky."

The captain grinned. "That was before you decided to revive your old habits."

Already formulating a plan in her mind, Admiral Janeway put her nose next to her coffee cup and inhaled deeply. "I don't know why I ever gave this up."

...

Captain Janeway walked slowly from the turbolift to her quarters. Her conversation with the older version of herself had been emotional and exhausting. She felt confident, now, that they had a plan that would allow them to destroy the transwarp hub and have the best chance of getting Voyager home, but her head was still spinning. She was still trying to wrap her head around everything that the admiral had told her about the future. Seven, dead. Tuvok, with a horrible degenerative disease, ranting and raving, unable to control his mental faculties. And Chakotay. She had always felt that maintaining a certain professional distance was appropriate, especially after witnessing what had happened to Ransom's crew when he had done the opposite. But she had never considered that maintaining that distance might be harmful, especially to her first officer and closest friend.

 _Closest friend. Are we still close friends?_ she wondered. There was a time when she wouldn't have questioned it. She thought back to his asking for a rain check at lunch that day, saying that he already had plans. _With Seven?_ she wondered now. _What kind of friend am I if he couldn't even tell me about…_ She stopped the thought. She couldn't wrap her mind around the idea of Chakotay and Seven dating, much less married. But it had happened. The admiral had lived that reality. _It must have been so hard_ , she thought, _to watch them become closer._ She wouldn't interfere; she'd want them to be happy. Yet she knew that she would feel more and more alone as they became a couple. But even watching Chakotay and Seven marry would not be as hard as living without them. Seven was probably as close as she was ever going to come to having a daughter. And Chakotay… She couldn't put into words what she felt for Chakotay. The admiral had lived for ten years without him, and from what little she'd said about their relationship prior to that, the last dozen years on _Voyager_ , they hadn't even had much of a friendship. They had done their duty and no more. Janeway shuddered. Was that where she was headed? Was that the life she was creating for herself? Duty and no more? Was she doomed to destroy the lives of those she cared about, and her own in the process? Her hand was shaking as she lifted it to key in her door code.

"Captain?" The voice of her first officer startled her, and she jumped, her back making contact with his large, solid chest.

"Chakotay," she said, her voice shaking as she turned to face him and backed away, increasing the space between them.

His features were instantly filled with concern when he saw her face, still streaked with her earlier tears. "Kathryn?" he asked softly.

"I'm f…" she started, but cut herself off mid-sentence, remembering what the admiral had said. _If I had just let him in, let him help me, it would have helped him._ She changed her mind, and admitted, "I'm a little shaken up, actually."

Chakotay reached out and took her hand in his. "You're trembling."

"Would you like to come in for some tea?"

Chakotay glanced up and down the corridor. Kathryn wondered whether he was looking for Seven and expected him to turn down the invitation, as he had with lunch. Instead, his thumb gently massaged the back of her hand and he looked into her eyes. "I'd like that." He released her hand so she could enter her door code.

She entered her quarters with her back to him. "Have a seat," she said, while she went to the replicator and ordered two cups of his favorite herbal tea. She handed him one and sat on the couch beside him, putting her cup down on the coffee table and propping her feet up beside it, leaning her head back against the sofa.

"It must be strange, meeting an older version of yourself," he offered when she didn't speak.

"Strange doesn't even begin to cover it." She lifted her head. "What do you think of her, Chakotay?"

He looked into his mug and then out at the stars before looking back at her. "I think she's a sad, bitter woman who has lived a terribly painful life."

Kathryn sat up straight, taking her feet off the table. "Did you talk to her?"

"No."

"Then what makes you say that?"

"If you think that I don't know you well enough to see through you after all this time, then our friendship isn't as strong as I thought it was," he said flippantly. He was about to chuckle, but he stopped, seeing the expression on her face, as if he'd struck her. He let the moment hang in the air, unsure what to say.

Kathryn looked out at the stars whizzing by, remembering Admiral Janeway's eyes - her own eyes - as she'd told her, _I didn't even get to say goodbye… Three days later he was gone._ "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Chakotay didn't know how to respond. He couldn't remember another time in seven years of knowing her that he'd heard Kathryn Janeway apologize. She'd certainly never apologized to him, not directly, even when he'd thought she should have. Now, he had no idea what she was apologizing for. "For what?"

When she turned her face to him again, there were unshed tears glistening in her eyes. "For everything." _This is where everything started,_ she remembered the admiral saying. _This is where everything has to change._ "I've hurt you," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

"How? How have you hurt me?" He could certainly think of a dozen ways, but he felt certain they were not what she was thinking of.

"Shut you out," she said, her voice trembling. She stood, putting some distance between them, and walked to her favorite spot, near the window. "Never let you… never let you help me. I'm not a good friend."

"You're the captain, first and foremost. There have been times when I haven't liked that, but I've always understood it." She was silent, not responding. "Does this have something to do with Admiral Janeway?" She didn't reply, and her silence was enough confirmation for him. He tried to put the pieces together, to understand what she was talking about. "Whatever she feels guilty for, you don't have to apologize for it."

"But it's already started. I've tried to make the best decisions for all of us, but so did she. And look where it got her. Seven, dead. Tuvok, might as well be dead. And Chakotay…"

"What? Kathryn, you're not making any sense. I don't understand what you're saying." Chakotay's own mind was reeling. What did she mean about Seven and Tuvok? And what about him?

Janeway whirled around, and Chakotay could see the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. "In the future. Seven dies on an away mission. Tuvok has a disease, a mental disease, that can only be cured if we get home now. And you…"

"And me? What about me?"

"He kept his promise to stay by her side and help carry her burdens until they got home. Three days later, he died. And it was her fault. My fault."

"Kathryn, stop. Stop and listen to me." He stood and walked over to her, taking her by the shoulders. She was trembling, as she had been in the corridor. "Whatever she did is not your fault. You didn't do it. You aren't her."

"But I'm well on my way to becoming her, aren't I?" She shrugged off his hands and turned away from him.

"Not if you don't want to," he replied softly.

She shook her head stubbornly, refusing to face him.

"Listen to yourself. How could Chakotay's death in the admiral's timeline be your fault?"

"I've already started to become her, Chakotay. Don't you see?"

"What I see is you behaving completely irrationally, in a way that I've only seen a few other times before. And when I think of those times, and what they resulted in, it scares me. What did she say to you?"

She whirled around to face him, about to throw his own words about irrationality back in his face, but she stopped herself, seeing the genuine concern in his eyes. _This is your chance,_ a voice in the back of her mind whispered. _This is your chance to change everything. Everything starts right now, anew. The admiral gave you that chance._ "All right," she said. She slumped back onto the sofa and he followed, seated beside her. Everything that the admiral had told her since her arrival began to pour out of her: Tuvok's illness, Seven's death, the other crew members that Admiral Janeway lost before she got home, and finally, the description of Chakotay's own untimely passing, only a few short days after _Voyager_ 's return to Earth.

"That must have been terrible for the admiral," Chakotay said when she had finished.

The ghost of a smile passed over her features. "That's what I said."

"Well, now that we know what happened to her, surely we can avoid it."

"Maybe," she whispered. "Maybe some of it." She looked up into his eyes and reached across the distance between them. It was only a few inches, but to her it seemed a cavernous space. Her hand stopped, suspended in midair. "I truly am sorry, Chakotay. I have… valued your friendship, and I apologize for anything I've done to jeopardize it."

"All the hardships we've had to face on _Voyager_ haven't made things easier for either of us. The weight of a hundred and fifty lives is a heavy burden to bear; I appreciate that more than anyone. And you can hardly take sole responsibility for any failings in our friendship. I believe that is, as they say, a two way street."

Her lip trembled as the hand reaching across the cavern between them touched his cheek, caressed it. He closed his eyes; she hadn't touched him that way in years. "I don't want to lose you," she whispered. "I don't want to have to live without you, like she did."  
He clasped her hand and covered it with his own. "You won't lose me."

"I'm afraid I already have."

He looked at her, puzzled, and she withdrew her hand, turning her face away from him. "Why?" he pressed. "I don't see any reason to be afraid of that. The admiral's future won't be yours." When she refused to turn back to look at him, he scooted closer on the couch, closing some of the cavern between them. "What else are you not telling me?"

She shook her head, feeling the heat of his breath on her ear. "I can't tell you."

"Why not? Why can't you tell me?"

"It wouldn't be right. The temporal prime directive."

"The temporal prime directive no longer applies. That future is gone."

"It's not my place."

"How is this different from everything else you've told me?"

"It's just different."

"Damn it, Kathryn!" he exploded, backing away from her, increasing the distance between them again. "You say you want to be more open, be more honest, to have a real friendship with me, but then you still call the shots about what gets said and what doesn't?"

"All right, fine!" she replied, turning to face him. "You and Seven. Your… relationship. Your… romance. The admiral told me about you and Seven."

"Me and Seven? We've had a few dates, that's all. Why would the admiral tell you that?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Janeway shot back.

"It was just a few dates. She asked me to help her with her study of human interactions."

"You're dating someone, and you didn't see fit to tell me?"

"Are you asking as my captain or as my friend?"

"As your friend!"

"It was all so new. I didn't want to…" He stopped, seeing her expression of disbelief. "All right," he admitted. "I was afraid of what you'd say. I didn't think you'd approve."

She turned away from him. "I just want you to be happy, Chakotay. I want the best for you. If she's what makes you happy, I won't stand in your way."

It took him a long time to reply, he was so surprised by her response. Finally, he said, "I'm sorry. I underestimated you. I thought you'd be overprotective of her, say she wasn't ready to date."

Janeway turned to look at him with a small smile on her face. "Seven's a grown woman, and she's come a long way. I can't make that decision for her. I'm delighted that she's decided to explore this aspect of her humanity." She paused, swallowing hard. "And, if I may say, she has excellent taste."

Chakotay blushed, averting his eyes. "Thank you." He paused to study his captain and friend for another moment. She seemed calmer than she had when he'd run into her in the corridor, but she was still upset about something. He knew her too well not to notice that. Perhaps his lack of honesty over his newfound relationship? "Kathryn, it's not anything serious with me and Seven. I would have told you before it got that way."

She nodded, blinking rapidly. "Of course."

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine. Thank you for the talk, Chakotay."

"Are you sure?" he asked, standing up and clearing their mugs from the table. She nodded. After he had the mugs them in the replicator, he returned to her and took her hands. "You're not going to lose me, or our friendship," he assured her. "That I can promise you."

 _Our friendship. At least we'll have our friendship_ , she thought. She said, "I'm glad," and squeezed his hands before releasing them. "Oh, and I'll be briefing the senior staff in the morning. Admiral Janeway and I have a new plan."

Chakotay grinned. "I'm sure it's bound to succeed, with two Kathryn Janeways behind it."

The captain smiled, but when the door closed behind her first officer, she still felt empty inside.

...

Captain Janeway entered the shuttle bay. She had briefed the senior staff on the plan she and the admiral had invented the night before, and everyone had been enthusiastic. Still, she felt nervous. Her palm was sweaty against the hypospray she held as she climbed into the shuttle beside her older counterpart.

"It's about time. I'm not getting any younger, you know."

"You're sure you want to do this?" asked the captain.

"No," the admiral replied, "but _Voyager_ isn't big enough for both of us."

"You could come back with us. You could have the Christmas you always wanted, the one that was different. You could have the life you've been longing for all these years. You won't be alone."

The admiral smiled, and patted the captain's knee. "I've done what I came here to do, Captain. That Christmas, that life, is for you to have, not me. This way, it will be as though I never existed, which is how it should have been all along."

"All right," the captain agreed, and pressed the hypospray to her older self's neck. "Captain," the admiral said, "everything is different now. Everything. Don't think that anything I've told you about my future is bound to happen in yours."

"I know, but…"

The admiral shook her head, cutting off her younger counterpart. "You don't know. I was thinking last night, after our talk, about how I felt when I used to be you. I looked back at some of my personal logs, actually."

"You what?" the captain asked, offended that the admiral had looked at her personal logs. "Those are private."

Admiral Janeway chuckled. "You forget that I wrote them." She paused. "I just want you to understand that everything will be different. If we succeed today, you won't be in the Delta Quadrant. You won't be in a command structure. The limits that you've placed on yourself, and on your relationships, won't exist."

The captain nodded slowly, starting to catch the admiral's meaning. "Good luck, Admiral," she said softly.

"You, too. Captain. I'm glad I got to know you again."

...

"Commander." A passing ensign greeted Chakotay as he strode down the corridor, but he barely even heard the voice and didn't stop to acknowledge the greeting. His head had been spinning ever since his conversation with Kathryn the previous night - no, since before that, since Admiral Janeway's arrival.

The first time he had locked eyes with the admiral, he'd gotten a glimpse of the terrible pain she had been through, a pain that he suspected was somehow related to him, or the alternate timeline version of him, anyway. As he'd watched her interact with the captain and the crew, it had become apparent to him that whatever she'd endured had made her a bitter, angry woman. He would never say so to Kathryn, but he had often feared for her state of mind and her well-being after the stress of commanding Voyager in the Delta Quadrant for so many years, especially after her depression in the Void and her extreme reaction to the Equinox crew. Admiral Janeway seemed to be proof that all his fears were well-founded, and this had made him worry for Kathryn all the more. Yet, his captain had made it clear that their friendship would only go so far, and he had grown weary, over the years, of trying to push the boundaries she had set. He wondered if last night's conversation had truly been the change that it seemed.

He had returned to his quarters after saying goodnight to her, but had been unable to sleep. His mind kept whirling with all the things she had told him, the description of his sad and lonely death in the admiral's timeline, her insistence on her own, or the admiral's, responsibility for his loneliness, the implication that without her and without Voyager, he'd have nothing to live for. He didn't like that idea, not at all. _But you're not doomed to that life,_ he told himself. _You're not going to die like that, sad and alone, without purpose, without joy. You've got some life in you yet, old man._

He thought about the desperate look in Kathryn's eyes when she had said she didn't want to lose him. Her fervor had surprised him. Was she merely afraid of captaining Voyager alone? No, that didn't seem like her. Her plea had been of a more personal nature, he was sure of it. But was it merely the entreaty of a close friend, or was it something more? He shook his head. The question awoke thoughts and feelings he had thought long dead, feelings better left unexamined.

He entered astrometrics, and approached Seven at her station. "Any word from the admiral?"

"We lost contact as soon as she entered the hub," Seven replied, not meeting his eyes.

"Did the Borg give her any trouble?"

"Her vessel was scanned by several cubes, but none approached her, sir."

Chakotay suppressed a smile. "Are we keeping things professional again today?"

"Yes, Commander."

His smile faded. "You're not joking, are you?"

"No."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm just busy," Seven replied, keeping her eyes on the console in front of her.

"I think I've gotten to know you a little better than that."

"I'd prefer it if you didn't speak to me as though we're on intimate terms."

"We are on intimate terms," Chakotay argued.

"Not any more."

"What the hell is going on?" Chakotay asked, his frustration seeping through into his tone. First, Kathryn acting strangely, and now, Seven.

"I've decided to alter the parameters of our relationship," Seven replied, her tone emotionless.

"Well, that's a familiar refrain," Chakotay shot back. "You mind telling me why?"

"We both have dangerous occupations. It's possible one of us could be seriously injured, or worse. I believe it's best to avoid emotional attachments."

"You can't avoid emotional situations for the rest of your life, Seven. Emotions are part of what make us human. Maybe you can just flip some Borg switch and shut your emotions off, but I can't."

"I suggest you try. It will make things less difficult for you if any harm should come to me."

Chakotay narrowed his eyes, suspicion starting to dawn on him. "Why are you suddenly so concerned about that? Is there something I should know?"

Seven finally looked up at him, stopping her work. "The admiral suggested that your feelings for me will cause you pain in the future. I can't allow that to happen."

Chakotay sighed. Had Admiral Janeway told Seven the same information she had given to Kathryn? "Seven, any relationship involves risk. And nobody can guarantee what's going to happen tomorrow, not even an admiral from the future. The only certainty now is that what happened in Admiral Janeway's timeline is never going to happen. It's been irrevocably changed."

"I suppose that is true."

"I know it is!" Chakotay insisted. "Look, I know the admiral spoke to you and told you something about her future. She spoke to the captain, too. The spirits only know why she didn't actually come and talk to me. But whatever she told you, or the captain, it's not going to happen now. We can't make a decision about our relationship based on something that isn't going to happen, and, if I understand temporal theory correctly, never did."

"That does make sense," Seven replied, softening. "Perhaps I was premature in my judgment."

"Perhaps," Chakotay replied with a small smile. "If we do make it home," Seven said hesitantly, "everything will change."

"We don't know what will happen, Seven," he replied, feeling the ghost of an old fear rise up in his chest. _The Maquis could be imprisoned._

"We don't."

He was quiet for a long time, looking at the graphic of the elaborate Borg hub displayed on the large screen in front of them.

"Chakotay?" she asked, laying a hand on his arm. "What is the expression? A penny for your thoughts?"

"Maybe you're right to be cautious about our relationship, but for the wrong reasons. Maybe we should take a step back. If we do get home, we don't know how things will turn out for either of us."

"Are you suggesting that I am right to put an end to our… intimate relationship?"

"I am suggesting that we slow down, and wait to see what happens, and what we each want when, or if, we get home."

"I feel uneasy about returning to the Alpha Quadrant," Seven admitted. " _Voyager_ is the only home I have ever known, except with the Borg. I do not know if Starfleet will look fondly on my past."

"Seven, no matter what happens with our 'intimate relationship,' I will support you and be there for you when we get home. So will Captain Janeway, and Ensign Kim, and the Doctor, and everyone else on Voyager's crew. That's a promise."

Seven squeezed his arm and looked into his eyes, her own expression betraying her fear. "Thank you, Chakotay."

"Now, let's make sure our plan works, or this is going to be a whole lot of talk for no reason."

...

"Mr. Paris, what's our position?" the captain asked, her voice filled with trepidation.

Paris grinned. "Right where we expect it to be."

"The transwarp network has been obliterated, Captain," said Seven.

"We'll celebrate later," Janeway said, her voice tightly controlled. "Mister Tuvok?"

Tuvok fired a torpedo, and around them the Borg sphere exploded. As the debris cleared, Janeway gasped. On the viewscreen in front of her was a group of Starfleet ships. "We did it," she breathed, unable to believe her own eyes.

"We're being hailed," said Harry Kim, his voice, too, full of emotion.

"On screen," said the captain, fighting to keep control of her emotions. She wanted to cry out with joy as Admiral Owen Paris and Lieutenant Reginald Barclay appeared on the view screen in front of her. Instead, she merely said, "Sorry to surprise you. Next time we'll call ahead."

"Welcome back," Admiral Paris replied.

"It's good to be here."

"How did you…" Paris began.

Janeway cut him off, too drained to answer his questions just now. "It'll all be in my report, sir."

"I look forward to it," Paris replied.

The transmission ended and the captain bowed her head. "Thanks for your help, Admiral Janeway," she whispered to a version of herself who had sacrificed her own existence to make this moment possible.

The comm beeped, and the Doctor's voice said, "Sickbay to the bridge." The sound of a baby's cry filled the bridge. Harry Kim could not stop the chuckle that emerged from his lips at the sound. "Doctor to Lieutenant Paris. There's someone here who'd like to say hello."

"You'd better get down there, Tom," the captain said.

"Yes, ma'am." Tom Paris practically leapt from his chair to the turbolift in a single stride, exchanging a grin with his best friend Harry Kim on the way.

"Chakotay, take the helm."

"Aye, Captain."

"Set a course for home." Kathryn Janeway made her way back to her captain's chair and sat down in it slowly, running her hands along the armrests. _We did it, Admiral Janeway,_ she thought. _We made it home in time for Christmas._ But at the same time, a part of her wondered just what it was she was going to find when they arrived at Starfleet Headquarters.


	3. 2

**_2_**

 _December 25, 2378_

"When will the quarantine be lifted, Admiral? My people are anxious to see their families." Captain Janeway drummed her fingers on her desk and tried not to show her frustration.

"The full medical examinations will be completed within the week," replied Admiral Hayes. "After that, each crew member will undergo a full psychological evaluation before being released. We feel especially that the loyalty of the Maquis, the _Equinox_ crew and the former Borg must be thoroughly evaluated before they are permitted to rejoin the general public."

"Admiral, I have no Maquis on my crew. We are one crew, a Starfleet crew, and the 'Maquis,' as you call them, have been serving loyally for the past seven years."

"Forgive me, Captain, if I don't take your word for it. You're hardly an objective party in this discussion."

"I see," Janeway replied coldly. "Am I to understand that my loyalty is in question as well?"

"No, no. Not at all. You're a hero, Captain. There's no question about that. You dealt a crippling blow to the Borg when you destroyed their hub, and for that, Starfleet Command is indebted to you."

"Then you can repay the debt by releasing my crew."

"As soon as the medical and psychological evaluations are completed, we will certainly do our best. Hayes out."

As soon as the communication ended, Janeway slammed her palm down on the table. Stuck on _Voyager_ in the Alpha Quadrant or the Delta Quadrant, what did it matter? _I bet you didn't bank on this, Admiral Janeway,_ she thought bitterly. The admiral had gotten home so many years later that she'd never had to face questions about the loyalty of her crew. Sixteen years later, the Maquis and the Dominion War had been a long forgotten memory. Now, they were still fresh in the minds of everyone at Starfleet Command.

Taking a deep breath, she placed another comm call. At least she knew she had one ally among the admiralty. Owen Paris appeared on the screen in front of her. "Captain Janeway."

"Admiral Paris."

"How's my granddaughter doing?"

"Strong and healthy. Mama and baby are doing just fine. Everyone is anxious to see you in person."

"As am I," Paris replied with a wistful smile.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Admiral, this quarantine. Admiral Hayes just told me that the entire crew is going to undergo psychological evaluations before being released, and even that didn't sound like a guarantee. I was wondering, sir, if you could enlighten me as to what is being planned for my crew. Admiral Hayes still talks of certain members of my crew as if they are criminals, your daughter-in-law among them."

"Yes," Paris replied with a sigh. "Unfortunately, Hayes isn't alone in his feelings. That's why it's so important that we do everything by the book. We don't want anyone to be able to argue, later, that procedure wasn't followed. The consequences of that could be even worse than this quarantine."

"I understand." Janeway paused. "Permission to speak freely?"

"Granted."

"Admiral Hayes implied that even those who 'pass' the psychological evaluation might not be free to go. I won't stand for any member of my crew being held in any way. They have proven themselves as loyal Starfleet officers, and they deserve better than that."

"I agree with you, Captain. That's why I've arranged for the psychological evaluations to be conducted by Counselor Deanna Troi. Counselor Troi is familiar with your crew and the circumstances of your journey. On top of that, I've known her for years. She will be fair. She doesn't share Admiral Hayes' bias."

"I appreciate that, but I'm still concerned. Chakotay, B'Elanna and the others have been through so much already. It took them a long time to accept Starfleet into their lives again and to see themselves as Starfleet officers. I don't want them to lose their trust in Starfleet now because a few admirals with grudges treat them unfairly. The same is true for Seven of Nine. Every member of _Voyager_ 's crew deserves the same treatment. If I don't have to go through it, they shouldn't either."

"Your devotion to your crew is admirable, Captain Janeway. They've been lucky to serve under you."

"I've been lucky to have them."

"May I say, on a personal note, thank you, for all you've done for Tom. He's told me about it in some of his letters. I can see that he's a changed man, and I'm sure a great deal of the credit goes to you."

"Admiral, Tom has changed his own life." She paused. "And I'm sure he'd like to hear how proud of him you are. I know that would mean a lot to him."

"I look forward to telling him, as soon as this quarantine is ended."

"Good," Janeway replied. "The sooner the better."

"I'll do my best, Captain. Paris out."

The transmission ended and Janeway slumped back in her chair. Ever since _Voyager_ had burst into the Alpha Quadrant, she'd done nothing but talk to admirals and their aides. She'd thought the Delta Quadrant had been exhausting, but the Alpha Quadrant was no better. She had assumed that from Admiral Janeway's description of her own homecoming, theirs would be nothing but celebrations and joy. Instead it had been nothing but red tape and paperwork. Wearily, she stood from her desk and exited the ready room, passing through the nearly empty bridge. _Voyager_ was docked at Utopia Planetia, and only a skeleton crew was required to be at their stations. Everyone else was free to roam the ship, remain in their quarters or use holodeck time.

"Captain," said Harry Kim, standing from the command chair as she passed.

"Ensign Kim," she replied, mustering a smile. "Report?"

"All systems normal, Captain. No problems to report."

"Glad to hear that something is working right," she quipped under her breath as she headed for the turbolift.

"Captain," Kim's voice stopped her.

"Yes, Ensign?"

"We're getting together at Sandrine's tonight, in holodeck one, for a little Christmas celebration. Chell is cooking, and everyone is bringing their favorite holiday dish, now that no one has to worry about replicator rations. I hope you'll join us."

"Christmas? I completely forgot about it," said the captain.

"Well, I hope you'll come to the party. It wouldn't be the same without you."

"Thank you, Harry. I'll do my best." She entered the turbolift and continued on her way to sickbay. As she passed, a few crew members wished her Merry Christmas. She acknowledged them politely, but her mind was too filled with everything she had to accomplish to pay much attention to their greetings.

She arrived at her destination, and the EMH greeted her. "Captain."

"Doctor." She looked around; sickbay was empty, but she still spoke under her breath. "I have good news."

The Doctor's face was full of hope when he asked, "Really?"

"Yes. I spoke to Admiral Felna about your status once the quarantine is lifted."

"And?"

"While the question of your sentience is still debatable as far as the admiralty is concerned, they feel that with the precedent established by the trial around your holonovel, you should be allowed to determine your own life. Lieutenant Barclay, Commander Harkins and Dr. Zimmerman all testified on your behalf."

"So, Starfleet won't claim me as its property?" the EMH asked anxiously.

The captain shook her head. "Your attorney wisely called up an old trial, that of Lieutenant Commander Data, an android who went through a trial to determine whether he was property, and who was determined not to be. Between that precedent and those set at the trial surrounding your holonovel, Starfleet has determined that they cannot claim you as property."

Impulsively, the Doctor threw his arms around her. "Thank you, Captain. Thank you. This means so much to me."

Janeway smiled, allowing herself to feel the first moment of genuine joy she had experienced all day. "I'm glad I could deliver the good news."

"And you, Captain, how are you? How is the rest of the crew holding up? I must say, I feel like now that we are back in the Alpha Quadrant, no one is coming to sickbay. I have to admit I've been a bit lonely."

"I hear there's going to be a Christmas party at Sandrine's tonight."

"Yes, yes, of course! I'll be there. I hope to see you there, too, Captain."

"I'll do my best, Doctor. I have a lot of work to do."

"It's good for you to take a break. Don't forget that!" the EMH called after her as she exited sickbay, waving his words aside.

Her next stop was to see Seven of Nine. "How are you feeling, Seven?"

"I am feeling somewhat unsettled. Life on _Voyager_ is the only life I have ever known as a human. I cannot imagine what my life will be like once this quarantine is lifted."

"I'll help you, Seven. We'll get through this. You've come so far already. You're going to be just fine."

"Captain, do you think that Starfleet will punish me for the crimes I committed when I was Borg?"

The captain shook her head. "I'm not going to let that happen. You're not the same person now that you were then."

"A great many things have changed since I was Borg."

"Don't worry. I'll do whatever I can to protect you and help you through this transition. We all will."

"Commander Chakotay said the same."

"Of course," Janeway replied, trying to keep any emotion from showing on her face. "You know my door is always open to you, Seven." Janeway stood to leave.

"Captain!" Seven called, and Janeway stopped. "I wish to thank you for all you have done for me aboard Voyager, and all you continue to do for me, even now. I know that I… I have not always been the easiest to have under your command, but I want you to know that I am grateful."

"Oh, Seven," Janeway replied, stepping back to the other woman and enfolding her in a warm hug. "I'm proud of you." She squeezed Seven, and then released her.

"Merry Christmas, Captain."

Janeway felt sudden and unexpected tears well in her eyes, and she fought them back as she said, "Yes. You, too."

The captain exited the cargo bay and made her way to the quarters of all five _Equinox_ crew members and every former member of the Maquis. After her conversation with Admiral Hayes that morning, she felt the need to assure herself they were all in good spirits. Surprisingly, none of them seemed upset or worried by the quarantine. Each of them wished her a Merry Christmas or a Happy Holidays. Most of them took a moment to thank her for something she had done to help them over the years, even Noah Lessing, with whom her relationship had been virtually nonexistent after Chakotay had stopped her from ending his life. "You gave me another chance. Rudy never would have done that," Lessing said to her. "Merry Christmas, Captain."

The former Maquis, who she knew much better than the _Equinox_ crew, all seemed to be in good spirits. Ken Dalby offered her a drink, which she declined, and Ayala and Chell gave her some fresh baked cookies. "We're home, Captain!" Mariah Henley enthused. "And it's all because of you. Thank you for never giving up on us." Now, she had only one more stop to make before she had visited everyone on her list. Hesitantly, she raised her hand to the door chime.

"Come in," his deep voice replied.

She entered his quarters and inhaled deeply in spite of herself. There was something about the scent of his living space that was comforting to her. In some strange way, it smelled like home. "Commander. Is this a bad time?"

"Not at all," he replied, looking up from the project he was working on. She tried to see what it was, but he quickly put it aside, out of sight. "Come in. Can I get you a cup of tea? Cider? Coffee?"

"Coffee, please." He ordered two coffees from the replicator and handed one to her. "What were you working on?" she asked.

"Oh, just a project. You'll see it when it's finished." His eyes twinkled, and she knew whatever he was working on had to be something special. He looked at her, her tired eyes, her worn expression. "You didn't come here to enquire about my secrets, though, did you?"

She shook her head.

"What happened? Trouble with Starfleet Command?"

That was all it took for her entire conversation with Admiral Hayes to come spilling out. Chakotay sat and listened thoughtfully, letting Kathryn speak, allowing her to voice all her concerns and frustrations. When she had finished, he said, "You're afraid they're going to use these psychological evaluations against crew members of their choosing."

"Admiral Paris says he trusts Counselor Troi. The Doctor met her when he went to the Alpha Quadrant and met Lewis Zimmerman. I met her once, a long time ago, through Will Riker. I don't have any reason to doubt her judgment. But I don't like the way Admiral Hayes talked about the Maquis, the Borg, and the crew of the Equinox. We're all one crew. Those divisions don't exist anymore."

"You know that, and I know that. Hopefully, after the admiral reads Counselor Troi's report, he'll know it, too."

"You're awfully calm, Chakotay."

"For someone who could be going to prison for crimes he committed as a Maquis, you mean?"

She winced. She didn't even want to consider that possibility.

"I don't think that's going to happen, Kathryn. But if it does, we'll face it, together, just as we always have." He placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it.

"I hope you're right," she whispered.

"Do you really think Admiral Paris' daughter-in-law is going to be arrested or held for crimes committed over seven years ago?"

"Admiral Paris might be able to protect B'Elanna, but you…"

"Hey," he said softly, sensing her genuine distress, "we'll face it together. I'm going to be okay, Kathryn. We all are."

"Of course," she said, pulling away. "Well, I should go. I have about a dozen reports to get in to the admiralty before 0800 tomorrow."

"I hope the crew didn't forget to invite you to the Christmas party."

"Harry invited me, but I don't know if I'll be able to make it. I really have a lot of work to do tonight."

"Surely you can take an hour off to celebrate Christmas," Chakotay said.

"I'll try."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked.

"Unfortunately, no. There are some things that only the captain can do." She paused. "You and Seven enjoy the party."

She stood to go, but he stopped her before she reached the door. "Kathryn, Merry Christmas."

She bit her lip and blinked, looking at him with eyes full of both hope and sadness. "Let's hope it turns out to be one."

...

There was no Christmas for Kathryn Janeway that year. She never made it to the party at Sandrine's. In fact, she worked all through the night. Tuvok found her asleep at her desk in the ready room the next morning, and she was startled awake by the touch of his hand on her shoulder. "Tuvok!"

"Captain. I am sorry if I startled you."

"I must have fallen asleep finishing up my reports."

"That would seem to be the case."

She went to the replicator and ordered a cup of coffee, then turned back to her oldest friend. "Please tell me you have good news, Tuvok."

"In fact I do, Captain."

"Good. I could use some good news."

"I came to inform you that I have been cleared to depart Voyager and may leave for Vulcan immediately."

"Tuvok, that's wonderful."

"My treatment could easily wait for a few more days or even a few more weeks. My condition would not be affected."

"The sooner you can get treatment, the better, Tuvok. I don't want to take any risks with your mental health."

"You have obviously spoken to Starfleet Command on my behalf, as I am being released from quarantine before the rest of _Voyager_ 's crew."

Janeway pursed her lips. "I made them understand the urgency of the situation, as well as your value as a longtime, loyal Starfleet officer."

"Your efforts on my behalf were unnecessary, Captain, but they were appreciated. I am scheduled to depart for Vulcan immediately, and I will begin undergoing the fal'tor'vah as soon as I arrive. I have no reason to anticipate anything but a full recovery from my illness."

"That's wonderful news, Tuvok." Janeway stepped towards him. "Safe travels. Let me know as soon as your treatment is complete."

"I will, Captain. And may I add, it has been an honor serving with you aboard Voyager. I hope it is not the last time we will serve together."

"We share that hope, old friend. Safe travels." Impulsively, she enfolded him in a quick hug and then stepped back.

"Live long and prosper," Tuvok said, holding up his right hand and making the traditional Vulcan gesture.

"Live long and prosper, Tuvok." The Vulcan left, the ready room door closing behind him. Janeway took a long sip of her coffee and went into her private restroom to freshen up. She was well into her third report of the morning, describing the time they had unwittingly been thrown into the Q Civil War, when her door chime rang. "Come in."

"I didn't see you at Sandrine's last night."

She looked up from her computer terminal. "Chakotay. I know. I completely lost track of time. Tuvok found me asleep at my desk this morning." She gestured to the pile of PADDs next to her computer terminal. "Seven years worth of reports for Starfleet Command."

"Don't you have logs and mission reports you can submit to them, without having to write all these?"

"Of course I do." The captain paused. "And I'm sure that Starfleet will want to see those and go through them with a fine tooth comb. But I want to make sure that the crew is seen in the most favorable light possible."

"Are you sure I can't take some of these off your hands?"

"Thank you for the offer, but no."

"Does this have to do with Admiral Hayes' psychological evaluations?"

She nodded.

"I see."

"It's not that I don't trust you, Chakotay."

"But Starfleet Command doesn't," he replied bitterly.

"No." She stood, walked around the desk to face him, and placed her hand on his arm. "That's not it. There are a few admirals who share a lingering prejudice from the war. Only a few. My goal is to make sure that nothing we say or do will put you, or any other member of our crew, in jeopardy. Until everyone's freedom and autonomy is assured, we have to tread very carefully." She paused, seeing the anger simmering in his eyes. "Chakotay, if it was a matter of trust, I wouldn't have told you everything that Admiral Hayes said."

The fire in his eyes dimmed, and he nodded. "You're right. I understand." He covered her hand, still on his arm, with his own. "I just wish there was something I could do to help. I don't want you to have to carry this burden alone."

"I'm fine. If you want to help, make sure the rest of the crew is doing all right. I want to know if anyone is upset or has received any negative communication from Starfleet."

"Yes, Captain," he replied with a twinkle in his eye. "I'll report back this evening."

"Good. Now, I better get back to these reports."

He nodded, but instead of walking out the door, he walked over to the replicator. "Computer, half a grilled cheese sandwich and a cup of tomato soup." When he turned around, she was already back at her desk, head buried in her computer again. He brought the plate over to her and perched on the corner of her desk. "I'll wager you haven't eaten today."

She looked up at him, first ready to protest, but then her eyes filled with gratitude. "You're right, I haven't. Thank you, Chakotay."

He winked at her. "Make sure you actually eat it. It better not still be sitting there when I come back."

She grinned, and replied mockingly, "Yes, sir." He left the ready room, and her troubled expression returned. She remained concerned about Starfleet's treatment of her crew, and even though it felt wrong to put more distance between herself and them just now, she knew it was what she needed to do to ensure everyone's safety and wellbeing. Besides, she thought, Chakotay had Seven now, and the last thing she wanted to do was stand in the way of their happiness, especially now that the grim future of the admiral's timeline had been stopped.

...

In the end, Captain Janeway's efforts did ensure the freedom of every member of her crew. The former _Equinox_ crew members would be required to undergo additional psychological evaluation and counseling if they wished to remain in Starfleet, but they were free to go home to their families. The former Maquis were pardoned and offered their field commissions on a permanent basis, should they wish to remain in Starfleet. Seven and Icheb were recognized as citizens of the Federation with all the rights and privileges due to them therein, and the Doctor had already received the good news of his autonomy. While everyone's future assignments, including Captain Kathryn Janeway's, were still completely unknown, the quarantine was lifted on New Year's Eve. This had given most people's families time enough to travel to San Francisco, and there were many happy reunions with family and close friends.

It had taken Admiral Paris about a nanosecond to fall completely head over heels for his new granddaughter, and as she watched them on the transporter pad, Captain Janeway knew that the Paris-Torres family was going to be just fine. As she watched the rest of her crew reunite with their families, Admiral Hayes' parting words lingered in her mind. _You and your crew may have gotten off this time, but don't think that we won't be watching you and the rest of your crew in the future._ The thinly veiled threat had not been lost on Voyager's captain, and while she had wanted to threaten Hayes right back, she had thought better of it and kept her mouth shut. _They have a second chance_ , she thought. _Don't you dare spoil it for them._

She saw off each and every member of her crew, making sure that they were all taken care of and had somewhere to go. Harry Kim's parents beamed aboard to greet her and thank her for taking care of their son; she assured them that the pleasure had been hers. The Doctor was off to visit Lewis Zimmerman on Jupiter Station, and Seven had left earlier that day for her aunt's in Sweden. She had dismissed the transporter operator and told him to get home to his family, and as far as she knew, there was only one other crew member besides her who had not left Voyager yet.

The transporter room door opened, and he stepped inside, a large Starfleet issue duffel bag over his shoulder. "Why haven't you left yet, Kathryn? I'm sure your family is anxious to see you."

"The captain stays with the ship, I guess," she joked. "I wanted to see everyone off, make sure everyone was doing okay."

"What about you?" he asked, stepping close to her. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, Chakotay. I'm going to see my family today; I can hardly believe it. What about you?"

"I'm going to my cousin's in Ohio. He's married now and has a young child."

"My mother tells me my sister is engaged. I guess I'm going to meet her fiance."

Chakotay grinned. "I hope you approve."

"I'm sure I will."

The conversation seemed to die on their lips, and Chakotay let the duffel slide off his shoulder and thump to the floor. For a long time, they stared at each other, both fighting their emotions. Finally, Chakotay stepped forward, taking her hand in his. "What are you feeling?"

She looked away from him, blinking rapidly. "I can't believe we did it. I can't believe we're here." She looked around the familiar transporter room. "I can't believe this is the end of the road."

"Not the end, Kathryn," he said, running his thumb back and forth across the back of her hand. "A new beginning."

"I'm filled with joy and excitement at the prospect of seeing my family again, and all the reunions I witnessed today. I'm also…"

"Also?"

"I'm also afraid of losing you… All of you," she amended quickly.

"I told you before, I'm right here."

She nodded slowly, fighting back tears. She couldn't believe that this was it; this was the last time she and Chakotay would stand here together as captain and first officer. There would be a formal ceremony, later, of course, so it wasn't officially the last time, but it was, in reality, the last time. It was the end of a journey that had lasted seven years and taken them across seventy thousand lightyears. It was the end of a road that had inexorably altered both of their lives, and she didn't know where she would go from here. Suddenly, impulsively, she threw her arms around him and held him close. She felt his strong arms encircle her, his hand in her hair, cradling her tenderly. Then Admiral Hayes' words came back to her. _We'll be watching._ She was sure that if Hayes and those like him were watching, they'd find a way to use this moment against her, or, more likely against Chakotay. As suddenly as she had launched herself at him, she pushed him away, breaking the embrace. "Thank you," she said, "for everything."

"Kathryn, I…" he started, but then she looked up at him, and he saw a warning in her eyes, a warning that made him stop. He gave her a subtle nod and picked up his duffel bag. "Let me know when you get to your cousin's," Janeway said.

"I will. Let me know when you get to your mother's." He stepped up onto the transporter pad, his eyes locked on her.

She broke his gaze to program the transporter, but when she looked up, she found he was still watching her. She met his eyes, drank in his gaze, basked in his regard one last time. She wanted to run towards him, to beg him to come to Indiana with her, so that she would not have to live without him another day of her life. But there was too much uncertainty — Hayes' warning, his relationship with Seven, their next assignments — so she gave him a nod and activated the transporter, watching his form shimmer out of existence.  
She slumped against the transporter controls for a moment before programming in her own destination. She beamed a trunk of her belongings to the coordinates first and then set the transporter coordinates for herself. She stepped on the transporter pad and took one last, long look around her ship before she said, "Computer, energize."


	4. 3

**_3_**

 _March 13, 2379_

"Commander Chakotay, please report to Admiral Holt's office. Commander Chakotay, please report to Admiral Holt's office," came the automated voice of the computer over the loudspeaker at Deep Space 3. Chakotay sighed. He didn't understand why Holt insisted on using the antiquated paging system rather than having his aide contact someone directly via communicator.

He had been the second in command on Deep Space 3 for a month now, and he was still getting used to the hustle and bustle of the space station. There were half a dozen ships coming in and out each day, and dozens of species arriving and leaving the station. Most of the station personnel kept to themselves. Many had families with them on the station, or had already established friends. No one had been particularly welcoming, and he had spent most of the last month alone. Vice Admiral Marcus Holt had been professional and cordial, but hardly friendly. It was his regular conversations with Kathryn that helped him stay sane.

Shortly after _Voyager_ 's quarantine had ended, he and Seven had broken off their brief and ill-considered liaison. Seven had agreed to Starfleet's proposal that she enter the Academy as a third-year cadet, and Chakotay knew that he would likely not be posted in San Francisco. In addition, both of them felt that they needed to focus on their new lives, not on maintaining a relationship that might never had started had they not been stranded in the Delta Quadrant. A few weeks later, Chakotay had received the appointment to Deep Space 3. Before he'd left, Kathryn had wished him all the best, but he could see in her eyes the fear of losing him that she'd spoken of on _Voyager_. He had assured her, once again, that she was not alone, and had promised to keep in touch.

He'd kept his word, and they'd spoken every two or three days since he'd left Earth. At first, he was just anxious to prove to her that he meant what he said, but as the weeks went on, he found that he enjoyed their conversations, and missed her when a few days passed and they didn't speak. She had reluctantly accepted a promotion to the admiralty, feeling that she could do the most good for her former crew as an admiral. Now, as Chakotay walked through the busy promenade at Deep Space 3, he thought of her, remembering her laugh after he'd said something amusing in their conversation the previous evening. He found himself smiling, too, an expression that he had to consciously wipe of his face as he entered Admiral Holt's office.

"Commander Chakotay to see Admiral Holt," he told Holt's aide.

"Have a seat, Commander. The admiral will be with you momentarily."

Chakotay sat in one of the less than comfortable chairs in the admiral's waiting room. It was unusual for the admiral to call upon him outside of their weekly briefing, so he wondered what Holt wanted. He drummed his fingers on his knees and tapped one foot.

Holt's office was sparsely decorated. It had none of the homey touches that Kathryn's ready room had had on _Voyager_. There were no family pictures or favorite tea cup, no fresh flowers or hot, steaming pot of coffee. The only decor in the waiting room were a few artifacts and stones from the admiral's travels, and inside the office, the walls were lined with plaques and certificates, awards and photos with well-known Federation dignitaries. "The admiral will see you now, Commander," said Holt's aide, interrupting Chakotay's thoughts.

"Thank you," he said, and stood to enter Holt's office. "Admiral," he greeted Holt.

"Commander, please come in. Sit down." Holt was much older than Chakotay, a seasoned admiral with a lifetime in Starfleet. He had commanded Deep Space 3 through the Dominion War and had lived through more than his fair share of conflict and strife. He was generally gruff and to the point, but from everything Chakotay had read about him, he was a good officer and a good man. "Federation Ambassador Lojal will be arriving on the station tomorrow. I expect you to greet him and make him feel welcome here."

"Of course, Admiral."

"Ambassador Lojal will be meeting with three other guests who are arriving in three days. This is what I wanted to speak to you about, Commander."

"Sir?"

"Commander, I've read your personnel file. I know that you left Starfleet to fight in the Maquis after the Cardassians destroyed your home world."

"That's correct, Admiral."

"I want to know what your feelings are about the Cardassians now."  
"Well, sir," Chakotay said carefully, "I've read the reports on the Dominion War. I understand that Cardassia has been going through a difficult time the past several years."

Holt harrumphed loudly. "That would be putting it mildly. The Cardassians have been living in abject poverty ever since the Dominion abandoned them. They did it to themselves, in my opinion, but that doesn't change the fact."

"Yes, sir. If you don't mind my asking, what does this have to do with Ambassador Lojal?"

"Cardassia has decided to send a special envoy to try to mend their relationship with the Federation. That's what they say, anyway. Personally, I think they're going to ask us for aid."

"And this envoy will be meeting with Ambassador Lojal?"

"Precisely," bellowed Holt. "So what I need to know, Commander, is whether you'll be able to handle liaising with the Cardassian envoy. Normally, that would fall under the first officer's duties, you see, but if you can't handle them, I'll try to find someone else to take the job."

"I won't have any problem speaking to the Cardassians, sir," Chakotay said evenly. "I will make them feel welcome on the station if those are your orders."

Holt studied Chakotay for a long moment before breaking out in a wide grin. "I think Starfleet Command is gravely mistaken about you, my boy. Excellent. Excellent. My aide will give you more information about the Cardassian delegation on your way out. She'll also give you the arrival information for Ambassador Lojal."

"Thank you, Admiral."

Holt nodded approvingly. "Dismissed."

Chakotay exited the office and received a PADD from Holt's aide on his way out. As he read the information on the PADD, he felt an old anger inside of him steadily rising. He wondered whether this was an unhappy accident, or whether Starfleet Command was doing this to him on purpose.

...

"We'll meet again on Friday to discuss the next steps in this project," said Admiral Hayes. "Dismissed."

Admiral Janeway tried not to show her relief at the meeting being over. She had been struggling to pay attention near the end. Somehow, the ins and outs of every single captain's assignment in Starfleet had failed to hold her attention. She cordially wished the other admirals goodnight and headed back to her office. When she got there, she glanced at the chronometer; it was already 2200, and her aide had already gone home. She gathered her belongings and a few PADDs that she might need to review at home, and left Starfleet Headquarters.

She enjoyed the walk from Starfleet Command to her San Francisco apartment. Her path led her across Starfleet Academy grounds, and she basked in the energy of the cadets hurrying from one class to another, or heading to the library to study at night. Sometimes, she met Seven for dinner after work. Tonight, she was anxious to get home; it had been a long day, and she was tired.

Being an admiral was hardly glamorous work. Most of her time was spent on paperwork and meetings, and she wished she were back in the command chair of a starship. However, Starfleet Command had insisted that she accept the promotion to admiral, and she had felt she could do more good for her crew in a position of power. She had managed to help ensure good jobs for every member of her crew who wanted to stay in Starfleet, and even though the _Voyager_ family had been split up, at least they knew they had someone in the admiralty looking out for them.

While she was gratified by her ability to help her crew, her own life was frustrating and terribly lonely. Tom and B'Elanna had remained on Earth, but most of the rest of _Voyager_ 's crew had been reassigned elsewhere. She didn't have any friends in the admiralty; she didn't know who she could trust. The friends she had known before _Voyager_ 's journey had all moved on with their lives, and she had few confidantes she could turn to.

Her conversations with Chakotay helped keep her going, and he had been a tremendous source of support to her. When she'd been offered the job, she'd been afraid that accepting a promotion to the admiralty would mean that she was destined to become the bitter, lonely Admiral Janeway. It had been Chakotay who had talked her down from that ridiculous notion, just as he'd talked her through all the frustrations she'd felt since that day. Even though he was light years away, she was grateful for his continued friendship.

She reached her apartment building and greeted her doorman on her way inside. She took the lift up to the top floor and entered her apartment, a modern one-bedroom with large windows that allowed her to look out at the city and up at the stars. She kicked off her boots and hung her coat on a peg near the door. She went to the replicator to order herself a cup of coffee and noticed that her communications terminal was blinking.

She accessed the message, and Chakotay's face appeared on the screen. She could tell immediately that he was upset by the tension on his face. "Kathryn. You must still be at work. Call me back when you have the chance. Nothing urgent." Her brow furrowed. It most certainly seemed urgent from his tone and his manner. She keyed in a subspace transmission to Deep Space 3 right away. It didn't take Chakotay long to answer.

"Kathryn," he greeted her, and she could tell he was trying to put on a good face for her. "How was your day?"

"It was fine. Meetings, admirals droning on and on. Same as yesterday. What about you? How are you?"

"I'm…" She watched him get up from the computer terminal and start to pace back and forth across his quarters, clenching and unclenching his fist. After a moment, he stopped, turning back to the screen, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't know how I am."

"What happened?"

He returned to his chair in front of the screen and told her about his meeting with Admiral Holt. "He said he thought Starfleet underestimated me. I think this is some kind of test."

"If Starfleet is testing you, you certainly gave Holt the correct response," she said.

"I haven't told you everything yet. The Cardassian delegation includes Gul Evek."

"Evek? The Cardassian gul who chased the Valjean into the Badlands when you were taken by the Caretaker?"

Chakotay nodded. "How much do you know about him?"

"Not much. I seem to remember he was caught up in some controversy with Jean-Luc Picard at one time."

"That's right. Dorvan Five was a planet very much like my own, where a tribe from Earth had gone to settle in order to maintain the ways of their people. The planet was given to the Cardassians in the treaty, and Picard was supposed to forcibly remove all the colonists."

"What happened?"

"The colonists refused to move, as my own people had when the Cardassians invaded their planet a few years earlier. Evek ended up allowing them to stay, as long as they were willing to remain under Cardassian rule."

"And they did?" Janeway asked, the surprise evident in her tone.

"They felt a sacred connection to the land. They had built their home there. They didn't want to leave."

"I understand," she replied, holding up a hand at his defensive tone. "I just can't believe the colonists chose to remain under Cardassian rule, rather than accepting the protection of the Federation."

Chakotay's expression became even more grim. "It was a decision they lived to regret. Most of the colonists on Dorvan Five were either killed or put into Cardassian labor camps. Gul Evek was a hypocrite who tried his best to sow seeds of distrust and resentment between Starfleet and colonists throughout the DMZ. He planted weapons on Starfleet ships and accused Starfleet officers of illegally arming the colonists, while all the while he was illegally arming his own men." He paused. "I had gone after him, intending to force him to publicly admit what he had done. His deceptions only furthered the ill-will between Starfleet and the Maquis. I failed, and he ended up chasing me through the Badlands. We were caught by the Caretaker, and you know the rest."

"Does he know who you are?" Janeway asked, immediately concerned for Chakotay's safety if he was to face this man again.

"Through intelligence reports, maybe. I doubt I was important enough to the Cardassians for him to know my name. We never met face to face. To him, the Valjean was just another Maquis ship."

She made every effort to keep her expression neutral as she asked, "What are you going to do?"

He clenched and unclenched his fist, then stood to pace again. "I want to bash his face in the moment he steps off the transporter pad. He's an evil, traitorous hypocrite who did his best to destroy the Federation and the Maquis. And now he has the gall to come to Starfleet and ask for help?"

"Maybe the war changed him. Maybe…"

" _They_ can never change!" Chakotay spat.

Kathryn had rarely seen this side of her best friend, and her heart went out to him. His extreme emotional outburst was an indication of how much she knew he must be hurting. She longed to be with him, pull him into her arms and soothe his aching heart, but that wasn't possible right now. "Chakotay," she said softly, "listen to me."

He turned back to the screen, arms crossed over his chest. "What?"

"I can only imagine how hard this must be for you. But try to think about it from Evek's perspective. From what little I know about him, he was a proud man. Just think about how far he must have fallen to be asking the Federation for help."

His arms dropped to his sides, and he returned to the chair in front of his communications terminal. "Whatever he's gone through, he deserved it. Nothing could be worse than what he did to those people."

"He has to live with that every day. I have to believe that kind of guilt takes a toll on even the most hardened criminal, even if they don't admit it."

"Yes, I think you're right."

"Chakotay," she said hesitantly, "I have to be honest with you. I do think Starfleet is testing you. They could have set up the meeting with Ambassador Lojal at any number of space stations, but they set it there. How you handle this encounter could have a major impact on the rest of your career."

"Maybe I don't want a career in Starfleet," he said angrily.

She watched as he registered the hurt in her eyes, and she saw his regret for the outburst. "You don't mean that," she replied.

He took a deep breath and looked away from the screen before meeting her eyes again. "You're right, I don't." He sighed. "I guess I thought these wounds were healed a long time ago."

"Maybe that's the opportunity here, not to prove yourself to Starfleet, but to close those wounds once and for all."

"Maybe."

"Chakotay," she said, leaning forward, "I've seen you exhibit tremendous love and forgiveness over the past eight years. I've seen you transform yourself and help others transform as well. I know that you're doubting your ability to do that right now, but I've seen you do it before, and I know that you can do it again."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes to look at her again, he was smiling. "Do you think you could write that down for me, in case I need to remember it again later?"

She grinned. "Of course."

His hand reached out to touch the screen, and she lifted her own to meet his fingers. Although they couldn't physically touch across the light years, it made her feel just a little closer to him. "Thank you, Kathryn."

"What are friends for?" she quipped. "When does the Cardassian envoy arrive?"

"Three days."

"You have three days to prepare yourself, Commander," she said, summoning a command tone. "I suggest you get to it."

He grinned. "Yes, ma'am."

"Chakotay, if you need anything, don't hesitate to call."

"Thank you." He paused. "I didn't even ask you how you're doing."

"I'm fine, really. Nothing new."

"Okay. I'll speak to you soon."

"Yes. Soon. Janeway out."

...

Chakotay's feet felt heavy as he forced them to move, one in front of the other, down the corridor to the transporter room. He tried to force away the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Y _ou can do this, old man_ , he told himself. _The war is over. These people are no threat anymore. They're destitute, and they need your help._

He reached the transporter room door and stopped just outside, taking another deep breath and straightening his uniform. _No use delaying_ , he told himself. He took a step, and the transporter room doors swished open, then closed behind him. The station's security chief and second officer were waiting for him in the transporter room. He greeted each of them and asked Goral, the security chief, "Nothing unusual showed up in your scans of the Cardassian vessel?"

"No, sir. They submitted to full inspection, as is station procedure. Nothing unusual."

"Good. I want continuous scans run while the ship is docked here."

"Commander," piped up the station's Second Officer, Elliora Gonzales, "the Cardassians might think we don't trust them."

"Oh, we trust them all right," Chakotay murmured. "We just need them to know that we're paying attention." He turned to the transporter operator. "Is the Cardassian delegation ready to beam over?" he asked, forcing his voice to remain steady.

"Yes, sir."

"Energize." The transporter beam shimmered, and a moment later, three Cardassian soldiers appeared. Chakotay fought the urge to rush up and assault them. Instead, he extended his hand. "Gul Evek? I'm Commander Chakotay."

"Commander," Evek greeted him, stepping off the transporter pad and taking his hand.

The gul's skin felt cold and clammy in Chakotay's hand. "Welcome to Deep Space Three," Chakotay said, removing his hand from the gul's as quickly as he could without making his discomfort obvious.

"This is Gul Danar and Glinn Telak," said Evek, introducing the two men behind him.

"Welcome to Deep Space Three," Chakotay said again, extending his hand to the other two Cardassians. "I'd like to introduce our Second Officer, Lieutenant Commander Elliora Gonzales, and our Chief of Security, Lieutenant Goral." The officers exchanged pleasantries, and Chakotay gestured to the door of the transporter room. "May I show you to your quarters?"

"Please, lead the way," Evek replied, and the three Cardassians followed Chakotay out the transporter room door and into the corridor. Gonzales and Goral followed behind.

"Did you have a pleasant journey?" Chakotay asked.

"Our government can no longer to afford to equip Cardassian ships with all the comforts of home, Commander, so I'm not sure that 'pleasant' would accurately describe it. However, it was adequate."

"I'm glad to hear it," Chakotay grated out, keeping his true thoughts to himself.

"Commander Chakotay, you served in the Maquis, didn't you?" Evek asked.

"I left Starfleet for a brief time," he replied diplomatically. "I have been a loyal Starfleet officer for almost eight years now."

"Yes, when you were stranded in the Delta Quadrant, wasn't it? Even Cardassia is not so isolated as to miss the news of _Voyager_ 's historic return from the Delta Quadrant."

"It was quite a journey."

"You missed most of the war, then. It's a pity, really." Evek paused. "Most of your Maquis friends were slaughtered."

Chakotay stopped in the middle of the corridor. "Do you have a point, Gul Evek?"

The gul grinned. "Just that if you had been here, you might have been slaughtered along with them, and we wouldn't be having this pleasant conversation right now."

"If you truly want the Federation's assistance for Cardassia, I suggest you adjust your attitude. It's not becoming of a man who has come to grovel at the Federation's doorstep."

Evek drew himself up to his full height and puffed out his chest. "I grovel before no one, Commander."

Chakotay shook his head, more at himself than at Evek, realizing he had allowed the gul to goad him into an emotional reaction. "Look, Evek, you need our help. Believe it or not, I want to help you get the aid you need. I saw the starvation and cruelty that my people went through during your people's occupation of my planet. That's a fate I wouldn't wish on anyone." Chakotay's voice softened. "Not even you."

"How generous of you," the gul replied acerbically.

"It's not easy for any man to put the past behind him. I understand that as well as anyone. But I know something about you. I know you once tried to give the people of Dorvan Five a chance; I know you didn't force them to leave their homes. Whatever happened later, I know you have some sense of decency and respect for human life. Let's focus on that and try to leave the past where it belongs, in the past."

Evek looked surprised, and Danar and Telak were looking at Chakotay with genuine respect. "Wise words, Commander," the gul admitted. "Let us do as you say, and try to put the past behind us."

"Good," Chakotay replied, and extended his hand to the gul again. The two men shook hands, more genuinely this time, and Chakotay led them the rest of the way to their quarters in silence. "I hope you'll be comfortable here," he said. "If you need anything, please don't hesitate to call myself or Commander Gonzales."

"Thank you, Commander."

"I'll see you tomorrow morning at 0800 when I will escort you to your meeting with Ambassador Lojal." The Cardassians disappeared into their quarters, and Chakotay was left in the corridor with Lieutenant Goral and Commander Gonzales.

"Goral, have these corridors monitored for the rest of the Cardassians' stay with us."

"Yes, sir."

"You're both dismissed. You may return to your duties." Goral nodded and headed down the corridor. Gonzales remained behind for a moment. "Was there something else, Commander?" Chakotay asked.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

Chakotay nodded. He didn't know Gonzales well, but from the little time he'd spent with her, he liked her as a person and respected her as an officer. She was a little younger than Harry Kim, and Deep Space Three was her first space station posting after having spent a few years as the tactical officer on a ship that was later destroyed during the Dominion War.

"I've never seen anyone talk to a Cardassian that way," she said. "My whole Starfleet career, they've been the enemy. Honestly, sir, I was afraid of having them on the station, knowing what they've done to so many good Starfleet officers. But now, I don't feel so afraid anymore. Thank you."

"Don't thank me, Elliora. I'm just doing my duty. Just trying my best. Now, get back to your station. I'll be in my quarters if anybody needs me."

"Yes, sir," Gonzales replied, flashing him a smile before disappearing down the corridor.

Chakotay didn't have the heart to return her smile; he didn't feel like smiling just then. Instead, he felt very, very tired. He trudged back to his quarters, and by the time he walked in the door, he was shaking, the emotions he had been holding in threatening to pour over and explode. He screamed, a loud, guttural sound that reverberated through his entire being. His quarters on the space station were much larger than his quarters on _Voyager_ , and he kept a freestanding punching bag for times he needed a quick workout but hadn't booked holodeck time. Without changing his clothes or putting on his boxing gloves, he stalked over to the bag and began to wail on it. Jab, cross, jab. Jab, hook, uppercut. In some part of his mind, he knew his strikes were messy and his technique lacking, but he didn't care. He just wanted to hit, to destroy, to wound, to hurt, and he kept punching the bag, parrying around it, until he was drenched in sweat and his knuckles were raw and bloody. He staggered from the bag over to his communications console, not even thinking about what he was doing as he placed a call. It wasn't until Kathryn's face appeared on the screen in front of him that he realized what a sight he must be.

"Chakotay?" she asked, her concern visible. "Chakotay, are you all right? What happened?"

"I'm sorry," he said. "I must look terrible." He tried to imagine how he must look to her, sweat pouring down his uniform, his hair mussed, streaks of blood from his knuckles across his cheeks where he had wiped away his own sweat. He suddenly thought that he must look ridiculously funny, and he began to laugh. He laughed so hard he doubled over in his chair.

He didn't hear her voice saying, "Chakotay, you're in shock." He just kept laughing. He kept laughing until the tears came, and then he was crying, hot tears streaming down his cheeks, his body shaking from the intensity of his emotions, still doubled over, his head on his knees.

"Chakotay. Chakotay, please look at me. Let me see you, please. Chakotay, look at me." Finally, her words penetrated the haze of his turmoil, and he used one hand to haul himself up to a sitting position. "Breathe," she ordered. "Take deep breaths."

Some part of his brain seemed to know that he'd be wise to listen to her advice, and he forced himself to breathe in and out slowly.

"That's it," she encouraged him. He still had tears in his eyes, and he wiped them away angrily. That's when she saw his bruised and battered knuckles. "Chakotay, what did you do?"

"I, um, I had to get it out. I have a punching bag in my quarters. I guess I forgot to put my gloves on."

"You need to go to sickbay."

"I will," he said, starting to regain his hold on his emotions. "After we talk."

"All right. Tell me what happened."

So he told her. He told her how he felt walking into the transporter room, how his feet felt like lead. He told her how disgusted he'd felt when he'd touched Gul Evek's hand, and about the gul's provocative remarks in the corridor. He told her what he'd said to the gul and about Commander Gonzales' remark. "Then, I came back here. And everything's sort of a blur after that."

"It sounds like you handled it very well," she said. "If this was a test from Starfleet, I'm sure you passed."

"Well?" he hurled the word back at her. "Handled it well? Look at me!"

"As far as Starfleet is concerned, you handled it as well as any other officer could have. What happened afterwards, only you and I will know." She paused. "Chakotay, I'm proud of you. What you said to Gul Evek about leaving the past behind you; those are the kind of words that have the power to transform a life. I hope he heard you. And even if he didn't, I hope you heard yourself."

Chakotay nodded slowly. "I don't want to carry this hatred with me anymore. But it's hard to let it go. It's been a part of me for so long."

"This is the first step."

He suddenly felt bile rising in his throat. "Excuse me," he said, and ran to the bathroom, where he expelled the contents of his stomach. He rinsed his mouth and returned to the communications console. "Sorry."

"Don't be." The expression on her face told him she had heard him retching. "I wish I could be there with you."

"I don't think I'd be much fun at the moment."

"I don't care. I want to be there. I want to put my arms around you."

He peered at the screen, surprised by her open statement of affection, and saw that she was serious. "That doesn't sound so bad."

This elicited a smile from her. "It doesn't, does it? Now, go get your hands taken care of, and get cleaned up."

"I have a dermal regenerator here," he said. "I'll take care of my hands." He paused. "Kathryn?"

"Yes?"

"Will you stay on the line? Wait for me while I freshen up?"

"Of course. I'll be right here, reading reports, when you come back."

He took care of his knuckles with the dermal regenerator and then took a sonic shower. He changed into comfortable pajamas and a thick, terry robe and returned to the communications console.

"Better?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Just tired."

"Get some rest, Chakotay. We can talk again tomorrow."

"Just stay on the line a little longer, all right?" She nodded, and he took his computer with him into the bedroom and placed it on the bed. He climbed in under the covers and lay on the bed facing the screen.

Kathryn looked at him across the light years from behind her desk. "Thank you for trusting me, Chakotay," she said softly. "That can't have been an easy thing for you to share."

"Actually," he said sleepily, "it was easier because I shared it with you. I should be the one thanking you."

"No thanks necessary. Now, I should let you get some rest."

"No," he said. "Stay until I fall asleep. Please."

"All right, Chakotay. I'll stay until you fall asleep. Sweet dreams."

He watched her on the screen until his eyelids got heavy, and it wasn't long before he drifted off into a deep and dreamless sleep.

...

"I hope that your talks with Ambassador Lojal were fruitful, Gul Evek," Chakotay said as he walked Evek, Danar and Telak from their quarters to the transporter room.

"The ambassador was extremely accommodating," Evek said, his bombastic tone from just three days earlier drastically subdued. "Much more accommodating than I would have been in his position."

"I'm glad to hear it," said Chakotay. "The Federation takes pride in its ability to provide aid to those in need." He paused. "Even those we once considered our enemies."

They reached the transporter room, and the door swished open. "Commander Chakotay," said Evek, "I believe I owe you an apology. The words I spoke at our first meeting were… overly harsh."

"Overcoming the past isn't easy, for any of us," Chakotay admitted.

"No, it's not." The gul paused, sharing a glance with his comrades. "But I hope this is the beginning of a new era for all of us, one where the Federation and Cardassia are at peace." He extended his hand to Chakotay.

"I hope so, too," Chakotay replied, taking the gul's hand and shaking it. It wasn't exactly a warm handshake, but it wasn't laden with the discomfort of their first meeting, either.

The three Cardassians stepped up onto the transporter pad. "Thank you for your hospitality, Commander. It shall not be forgotten by the Cardassian Empire."

"Gul Evek, peace in your hearts, fortune in your steps. An ancient blessing from my people."

"Thank you, Commander. Same to you."

Chakotay turned to the transporter operator. "Energize."

"Aye, sir."

The transporter hummed, and the three Cardassians were gone. Chakotay breathed a sigh of relief, and when he left the transporter room, his step felt lighter than it had in days. Even though he had maintained cordial relations with the Cardassians during their stay on the station, he was glad they were gone.

"Commander Chakotay, please report to Admiral Holt's office," he heard the computer say. "Commander Chakotay, please report to Admiral Holt's office." Changing his path, he obeyed the order, heading for Holt's office rather than his own.

When he entered the office, Holt's aide gestured to the door. "The admiral is waiting for you, sir."

Chakotay raised his eyebrows. This was the first time Holt had summoned him and not forced him to wait in the anteroom before entering his office. He wondered what could be so urgent. "Admiral," he greeted the older man, standing at ease, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Sit down, Commander. Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Thank you," Chakotay said, surprised.

"Hannah," Holt called to his aide, "fix us a pot of tea, will you?" Then he turned back to Chakotay. "I like having an afternoon cup of tea."

"Yes, sir." Chakotay was still mystified as to why he'd been called into the admiral's office.

"The Cardassian delegation got off all right?"

"Yes, sir. They just left a few minutes ago. They seemed satisfied with their stay on the station."

"Yes. Ambassador Lojal told me they particularly mentioned you."

"Sir?" Chakotay felt a sinking feeling, wondering if Evek had exacted some kind of revenge on him by speaking negatively of him to the ambassador.

"Apparently, you were most helpful and made them feel most welcome on the station. The ambassador felt it was your welcome that set the stage for productive negotiations."

For a moment, Chakotay didn't know what to say. This was the last thing he had expected to hear. Fortunately, at that moment, Hannah entered with the tea and served a cup to him and Admiral Holt, saving him from an idiotic response. Holt continued, "You're to be commended, Commander. Not many officers would have been able to handle the situation so gracefully, especially given your background."

"Thank you, sir," he managed when he had recovered his voice.

"I'm going to put in a good word to Admiral Hayes about you. The man seems to worry about your competence for some reason, but you're the best first officer we've ever had on this station."

"Thank you, Admiral," Chakotay said, still shocked.

"Now, let's go over the duty roster for next week while we finish our tea."

The rest of the conversation turned to other matters, but when Chakotay left the admiral's office, he couldn't keep the grin from his face. _If this was a test, I sure passed with flying colors,_ he thought. _Wait till I tell Kathryn._


	5. 4

**_4_**

 _October 28, 2379_

The days seemed to drag on, one after another, every day filled with the same minutia. Kathryn Janeway didn't want to admit it, but she was bored. She hated being behind a desk day in and day out. She had decided that Starfleet had offered her the promotion not to reward her ingenuity as a captain, but to keep her under close watch. She wanted her captaincy back. She wanted _Voyager_ back.

She had spoken to Admiral Paris about the idea, off the record, and he suggested that it might be possible for her to get command of another ship, but that it would likely be some time before that would happen. "Admirals don't command ships," he reminded her. She was angry that she had accepted the promotion in the first place and wondered whether she had done herself or her crew any good by taking it.

While she was frustrated and felt stagnant, she was pleased that most of _Voyager_ 's crew was blossoming. The Doctor was fitting in just fine at Starfleet Medical and was working on a new holonovel. Tuvok had recently completed his treatment and had commed her the previous week to tell her his doctors were satisfied with his progress. B'Elanna was working with Starfleet's top engineers on designing a slipstream drive that worked consistently, and Tom was living his dream as a test pilot, while baby Miral was growing up surrounded by doting friends and family. Harry was enjoying his new ops post, and he had recently told her that he was dating a woman in engineering on his ship. Seven was passing all her classes at the Academy with flying colors and seemed to have a new beau every week. Kathryn felt that everyone was moving forward with their lives except for her. Her career was at a standstill and her personal life was nonexistent.

The highlights of every week were her conversations with Chakotay. They continued to speak via subspace every three or four days. Sometimes, they discussed nothing of importance, only sharing laughs about one ridiculous thing or another. Sometimes, they talked about frustrations or problems they faced at work, and they often brainstormed together to solve the issue. Other times, they found themselves engaged in deep, philosophical conversations. Lately, many of their talks seemed to take on a flirtatious tone that made Kathryn blush when she thought of it later. She often thought about her conversations with Admiral Janeway, and she was starting to wonder whether the admiral had intended much more than to salvage Chakotay's chance at happiness with Seven and merely his friendship with Kathryn.

The subspace conversations were wonderful, but Kathryn missed her friend. She missed seeing him in person, feeling the rumble of his voice, being able to look in his eyes and inhale his unique scent. She longed to reach through the screen and make physical contact, and with the turn things had taken lately, she often wondered where that might lead. The previous week, after a particularly flirtatious encounter, she had lain in bed awake, imagining the angular planes of his muscles under her hands as she slowly peeled of his clothing. It had been years since she had indulged in fantasy, but now, she couldn't help but wonder if he was doing the same thing. One thing was becoming abundantly clear to her; she had to see him in person. That was why she was currently on her way to Admiral Hayes' office.

She entered the anteroom of the office. "Admiral Janeway," his aide greeted her. "What can I do for you today?"

"Does the admiral have a moment?" she asked.

"He's in there with Admiral Ross at the moment, but if you'd like to wait for a few minutes, they should be finished soon."

"Thank you. I'll wait."

She sat down on one of the plush chairs in the waiting room. Only a few minutes later, Admiral Ross emerged from Hayes' office. The two men were laughing and joking. _Good_ , she thought. _Hopefully that means Hayes will be in a good mood._ Ever since Chakotay had passed his "test" with flying colors, Hayes had seemed even less amenable to her than he had been before. Unfortunately, he was her direct superior, and the only one she could go to with her request. Hayes saw her sitting in his anteroom and gestured to her. "Admiral Janeway, come in."

She entered Hayes' office, but he did not invite her to sit down. "Thank you for taking the time to see me, sir."

"What can I do for you?"

"I'd like to schedule some leave over the holidays."

"Hmm," said Hayes. He glanced at his computer screen. "Leave typically has to be scheduled at least thirty days in advance. When would you like to go?"

She handed him a PADD with her proposed leave dates. "It's more than thirty days advance notice," she said.

The admiral glanced at the PADD and then looked at his computer screen, scrolling through something that she couldn't see. "Hmm," he said. "No, no. This won't do." He looked up at her and handed her back the PADD. "I'm afraid it's not possible, Admiral Janeway. There are too many other personnel who have already requested leave at that same time."

"I could adjust the dates of my trip by several days on either end," she offered, trying to keep the frustration out of her voice.

"That won't help, I'm afraid. No remaining leave time is available for the admiralty until well into the new year."

"Admiral Blackwell told me that she was approved for leave over the holidays yesterday," Janeway argued.

"Well, she must have been the last one, then. I'm sorry, Admiral Janeway. I can't grant your request. If you'd like to schedule leave for February or March, I'm sure I could arrange that."

"Forget it," Kathryn replied, and stormed out of Hayes' office. She hadn't missed the smug look on his face when he had denied her.

That night, when Chakotay called her, she was still angry. She was only half listening as he told her about some personnel issue he'd had to deal with that day. She was swirling the last of her dinner around on her plate when she realized he had stopped speaking. "Hm?" she said, looking up. "I'm sorry, Chakotay. I'm not very good company tonight."

"I can see that. Is something wrong?"

"I'm just… frustrated."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"I don't think so."

"Okay." He paused. "Well, if you don't feel like talking tonight, I can call you another day." He reached for the button that would end the call.

"No! Wait! I wasn't going to tell you. I wanted it to be a surprise. But I guess I might as well tell you now, since there won't be any surprise."

"What?"

"I was going to come and visit you, for Christmas. I know you can't get away from the station with the growing concern about the Romulan situation. But Hayes won't give me any leave for another four or five months."

"That seems a bit extreme."

"He says that other people have already scheduled leave, and there's no leave left available to the admiralty over the holidays. But Margaret Blackwell told me she scheduled hers yesterday, so I know that's not true."

"You think he's holding a grudge?"

"I think he couldn't control you or the rest of our crew, and he's taking out his frustration on me."  
"I'm sorry, Kathryn."

"It's not your fault," she said with a sigh. "I had just gotten all excited about surprising you."

He smiled. "That would have been a wonderful surprise."

"I know." She sighed again.

"I would like to see you, Kathryn. I'd like that very much." He gave her a seductive look. "I'd like to see a lot of you." He said it in an overdramatic tone that made them both burst out laughing.

"Thank you for that," she said when their laughter had died down.

"I know you're upset that your surprise didn't work out. But we will see each other, even if we have to wait four or five months. And in the meantime, I enjoy our subspace calls."

"So do I, Chakotay. So do I."

...

As she opened the door to her apartment, she heard the communications console beeping, and she hurried over to answer the call. "Chakotay!" she exclaimed when his face appeared.

"Hi," he said, smiling at her disheveled appearance. Her arms were laden with packages, and her hat was falling off her head. Her hair, coat and hat were soaked from the San Francisco rain, and she dripped on the computer terminal as she rid herself of the packages and shed the coat and hat. "I was out Christmas shopping," she explained.

"Isn't Christmas still four weeks away?" Chakotay asked.

"I'm trying to be on top of it this year. Last year, I forgot about Christmas altogether."

"I see," he said with a chuckle. "Making up for lost time."

"Yes."

"So, who are all the packages for?" he asked as she rearranged the bags and boxes next to her desk.

"There's a few for my mother, a few for my sister. A book for my sister's husband. Of course, I had to pick out a toy for Miral, and a little something for Tom and B'Elanna."

"Is that all?" he asked, pretending to be hurt.

"Oh," she replied, giving him a devilish grin, "you'll have to wait for yours."

"I see. Am I going to like this gift I have to wait so long for?"  
"I hope so. I think you'll especially enjoy unwrapping it." They laughed together, and she said, "Can you wait a minute? I want to hang up my coat and get a cup of coffee."

"Of course."

A minute later, she was back in front of the communications console, steaming mug in hand. "Is your hair wet?" he asked.

She nodded. "It's pouring rain outside. Miserable weather for shopping."

"And yet you didn't wait until the weather was better."

"I had time this evening. For all I know, Admiral Hayes is going to be piling on the work over the next four weeks. This might be the last free time I have before Christmas."

"I hope that Horrible Hayes is giving you Christmas off."

"Oh, I'll get the standard days. Just nothing extra." She rolled her eyes. "Horrible Hayes" had become their private nickname for the admiral. If anyone ever found them out, her career would probably be over for good.

"What will you do for Christmas?" he asked. "Amazingly, the family traditions haven't changed in the last eight years. My mother does a big dinner party on Christmas Eve for family and friends. Christmas Day has always been just the immediate family, for a quiet breakfast and then opening packages, but I guess that Phoebe's husband will there this year." She paused. "I don't know, Chakotay. It doesn't feel like Christmas."

"It's not," he teased. "It's four weeks away."

"That's not what I mean."

"What do you mean?"

"I keep thinking about our traditions. My sister is married now. She and Andrew are bound to want to create their own traditions one day soon. I wouldn't be surprised if by next year this time, they have a baby. They'll want to do something at their house, with their family. And then what will Christmas be? Just me and mom, sitting at home, staring at each other with a couple packages under the tree? Doesn't that sound sad?"

"Aren't you the one who told me that Christmas is what you make it? That it's about being with family and friends and showing them how much you care?"

She chuckled. "Did I say that?"

"You did. Years ago, on Voyager."

"Hm. I must be pretty wise."

"You might be if you only listened to your own advice sometimes." He paused. "I can only imagine how strange it must be to try to fit into your own family after so many years away. They've changed while you were gone; you've changed, too, and been through so much that they'll never understand."

"I must sound terribly selfish, complaining about this when so many others from our crew don't even have a family to be with."

"No, please don't discount your emotions just because I, or someone else, might have different problems. I never celebrated Christmas growing up. There are other times of the year when I get sentimental about family, but Christmas isn't one of them."

She looked away from him for a moment, before turning back to the screen and admitting softly, "I guess sometimes I feel like I'm being left behind. I don't want to end up bitter and alone like the other Admiral Janeway."

"Left behind?"

"Everyone around me is moving forward with their lives. Harry Kim has an exciting new posting on a Galaxy class starship. Seven is completing her studies so that she can officially graduate from the Academy and become a Starfleet officer. Tom and B'Elanna both have work they're excited about, and they're raising a baby and building a home together. You're off having adventures on Deep Space Three, and I'm…"

"You're stuck behind a desk with Horrible Hayes watching your every move."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Why does it sound so overdramatic when you say it?"

He grinned. "If I didn't help you put things in perspective, what good would I be?"

"All right, all right. I'll stop complaining."

"Hey," he said, "you're not going to end up bitter and alone, Kathryn. I'll make sure of that."

She cocked her head, studying his expression for a long time without speaking. He looked right back into her eyes and didn't say a word. Finally, she was the one who broke the silence. "Did you hear that Tom and Harry are planning a one-year _Voyager_ reunion, on the anniversary of our homecoming?"

"I did hear that through the grapevine."

She laughed. "I guess the _Voyager_ grapevine is still going strong then, even though we've been reassigned. I know not everyone will be able to be there, but it looks like a good portion of the crew plans to attend."

"I wish I could," Chakotay said. "It would be great to see everyone."

"It may be the first time ever that I get to hear everyone's news before you do."

They laughed, a laugh that was interrupted by a loud yawn from Chakotay. "It's late here," he said by way of apology. "I had tried to call earlier, but you weren't home. I was going to leave a message telling you I was going to bed and that we'd talk tomorrow."

"Well then, I got home just in time."

"Yes, you did. Goodnight, Kathryn."

"Goodnight, Chakotay. Sleep well."

"You, too." The Starfleet emblem replaced his image on her screen, and her eyes lingered there for a long moment, still cherishing the image that had been there a moment earlier. She shook her head at her own sentimentality and went to work putting away her packages.

...

Kathryn Janeway smoothed the black dress over her hips. She'd been making an effort to spend more time in the Starfleet gym the past few months, and to actually pay attention to what she ate, so she had toned up a bit since _Voyager_. It had been a long time since she had put any effort or attention into her physical appearance; it had been a long time since she had cared. She examined her figure, the way the dress hugged her hips and accentuated her breasts, the cut of the back that showed off just a little bit of shoulder, and she felt satisfied with her appearance. _Not too bad, Kathryn_ , she thought with a small smile. The smile quickly faded. _If only he was going to be at the party to appreciate it._

The time leading up to Christmas had flown by. She had finished all her shopping and sent out Christmas greetings via subspace to all of _Voyager_ 's crew. She was looking forward to seeing many of them at the party this evening, but a few, like Chakotay, would not be able to make it.

While she was looking forward to the time with her former crew, there was something about the Christmas of her childhood that was still lacking. San Francisco was filled with decorations and strains of carols floating through the air. Her mother's house in Indiana was elaborately decorated and full of holiday cheer. She could feel the anticipation of the holiday in those around her, especially the children she encountered on her walk home from Headquarters each day, but she felt no joyous anticipation herself. She felt nothing about Christmas this year, nothing at all, except that something was missing.

 _Stop it_ , she scolded herself. _You have so much to be grateful for. You're home, with your family, for Christmas for the first time in eight years. And tonight, you're going to see your crew._ The thought of seeing her crew made Kathryn smile and filled her with genuine excitement. While she saw Tom, B'Elanna, Seven and the Doctor regularly, she hadn't seen Harry Kim, or many of the others, in almost a year. She knew she should be out the door already, but she stopped, and placed a subspace call instead. He would be coming off duty right about now, she thought, and she hoped he'd be back in his quarters.

"Connecting…" the message flashed across the terminal. "Connecting…" After several seconds, the computer's voice said, "Your party is currently unavailable. Would you like to leave a message?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Recording now."

"Chakotay, it's me. I'm just about to head to the _Voyager_ reunion, and I just wanted to see you for a moment, but I guess you're still on duty. It's been a few days since we talked, and I just wanted to let you know I'm thinking of you. I wish you could be here tonight." She paused, adding softly, "I miss you." She ended the transmission, then glanced at the time and realized she was going to be late. She slipped on her heels, grabbed her coat and was out the door.

By the time she arrived at the hotel where Tom had reserved a banquet hall, the party was in full swing. Christmas music was playing, hors d'oeuvres were being passed around, and a bartender was serving fancy mixed drinks and champagne. She tried to make a quiet entrance, but Harry saw her as soon as she came in the door. "Captain!" he exclaimed loudly, rushing up to enfold her in a warm hug.

She held him tightly, feeling the warmth of his hug seep through her body into her bones. "Harry," she greeted him.

He broke the hug quickly and stepped back, looking embarrassed. "Sorry, uh, I meant to say, Admiral."

She laughed. "That's all right, Harry. I'm happy to be Captain Janeway for tonight." She squeezed his hand.

"Let me take your coat," he offered.

She handed Kim her coat and found that she was surrounded by a crowd of her crew, each of them wanting to hug her. After she had exchanged greetings with a dozen crew members, she stopped. "Tuvok!" she exclaimed. "I didn't know you would be here." She rushed up to him and threw her arms around him, despite the Vulcan's discomfort with displays of human affection.

Surprising her, he patted her shoulder, allowing the embrace. "I did not want to miss the first reunion of Voyager's return," he said. "Admiral, you remember T'pel, my wife."

Janeway warmly clasped T'pel's hand. "So wonderful to see you again."

"And you, Admiral. I never had the chance to formally thank you for ensuring my husband would be home in time to receive treatment for his illness."

"It was the least I could do after all Tuvok has done for me over the years."

She felt a hand on her shoulder and heard a voice in her ear. "Can I get you a drink, Admiral?"

She turned to face the voice, laughing. Only Tom Paris could use her formal title and still make it sound cheeky. "Tom," she said, hugging him. "Thank you for organizing this. It's a wonderful party."

"Let me steer you towards the champagne," he said with a devilish grin and a hand on her lower back. "May I say you look quite beautiful tonight, Admiral."

"Thank you, Tom."

" _Some people_ are missing out by not being here," he teased.

She laughed, unable to feel any melancholy in this moment, surrounded by so much love and community. "Yes, I do believe _some people_ are."

Tom ordered her a glass of champagne, and then she made the rounds, saying hello to B'Elanna and Miral, to Michael Ayala, Naomi and Sam Wildman, and many others. She made her way back around to Harry Kim and met the lovely young woman on his arm. "I want you to be the first to know," he whispered to her anxiously, when the young woman had stepped away for a moment. "I'm planning to propose to Ala on Christmas Eve."

"Oh, Harry, that's wonderful! How romantic!" She enfolded him in another hug. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you, Admiral. That means the world to me."

She met Seven's current beau, who looked old enough to be one of her professors at the Academy, but who seemed lovely and was very attentive towards Seven. She spoke with the Doctor about his new holonovel, and Jenny Delaney confided that she and her fiance were expecting a child. The room was filled with happiness, laughter and love, and she basked in it. If someone asked her how she was doing, she replied that she was fine, and deflected the conversation back to them. It wasn't a night to discuss her frustrations or problems. There was no shortage of questions about Chakotay, and she informed those who were not close with him that he was doing well in his new assignment on Deep Space 3. "He wishes he could be here," she told them. "He sends his best to everyone."

Dinner had been served, and everyone was seated at round tables around the banquet hall. Kathryn sat at a table with the rest of the senior staff and their guests, and just as she picked up her fork to dig into her meal, Tom stood up and started tapping his glass with his fork. "I'd like to propose a toast," he said loudly, and everyone in the room quieted. "This has been a crazy year for all of us, with a lot of changes, but one thing that hasn't changed is that we're family." He nodded to Jenny Delaney. "And I hear the family's going to be getting a little bigger pretty soon." Jenny looked at her fiance and blushed. "We all help each other out, and we're all there for each other. I know I owe a lot of you big time after asking you to babysit for Miral this year." B'Elanna reached out and swatted his leg, and everyone laughed. "But there's really one person who has set the tone for all of us, who has been there for all of us through thick and thin, and who has given up a lot so that we can all have the lives that we do." Tom paused dramatically. "No," he said, "it's not the Doctor." The EMH was suitably flustered, and everyone else burst out laughing. Tom raised his glass. "You may be an admiral now, but you'll always be 'captain' to us. Or ma'am, but only if it's crunch time." More laughter. "Captain Janeway. You made us a family, and you've kept us together, no matter what. Thank you."

Everyone in the banquet hall stood, but Kathryn couldn't see them clearly; her eyes were blurred with tears. "To Captain Janeway," the rest of the crew echoed.

Wiping her eyes, she stood and gave Tom a hug. "Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome."

"Thank you all," she said, addressing the group. "I couldn't have done it without Commander Chakotay. He deserves at least half the credit." She paused. "I think you all already knew that, but I want you all to know that I knew it, too!" The room rang with laughter again, and she sat back down in her chair.

To her surprise, Tom continued. "Although you'd never say anything about it, we know that the past year hasn't been the easiest one for you, so we all got together and got you a little gift. Naomi?"

The young woman approached with a carefully wrapped package, and handed it to Janeway. "Thank you, Naomi." Curious, Janeway tore open the wrapping paper. Inside was a beautifully carved box; the image of Voyager was carved into the lid. "It's beautiful," she breathed.

"Chakotay made it for you when we got home," B'Elanna said from across the table. "I've had it since he left for Deep Space Three. I was just waiting for the right time to give it to you."

"Open it!" Naomi exclaimed.

"There's more?" Janeway asked. Naomi didn't respond, but she could tell from the twinkle in the girl's eyes that the answer was yes. Inside the box was a mini PADD. Janeway activated it and read the contents, and her eyes misted over once again. Her crew had arranged a weeklong vacation at a beach resort on Casperia Prime, including massages, spa treatments, drinks and meals. All she had to do was choose the dates.

"We thought you could use a little break from it all," Tom explained.

"Thank you," Janeway said again. "Thank you all. This is a wonderful gift. I will definitely enjoy it."

"We love you, Captain," said Naomi, and rushed forward to give Janeway a hug.

"I love you, too," she said to the young girl. Then she looked up at the smiling faces of her crew all around her, and she was filled with warmth and gratitude. "I love you all."

...

It was Christmas Eve, and Gretchen Janeway's house smelled of spices, mulled wine, roasting ham and cooked vegetables. Kathryn was still in her pajamas and robe, an apron over them as she chopped carrots in the kitchen. As she cut the carrots into even pieces, her thoughts meandered to Chakotay. She still hadn't spoken to him since the _Voyager_ reunion party, although she'd received a short, recorded transmission saying he'd hoped the party had been a huge success and he missed her, too. She'd also received a brief text-only message letting her know that he was busy with work but that he'd comm her at her mother's house over the holiday. She let her mind wander, imagining that he was there with her, busying himself in the kitchen and teasing her about her lack of cooking skills. He would come up behind her and take the knife and the carrot from her hands, encircling with his arms as he showed her the "proper" way to cut carrots.

"Earth to Kathryn," she heard, and she snapped herself out of her reverie, realizing she'd been standing at the counter, knife and carrot both suspended in midair.

"Sorry, Mom. I was just thinking."

"Do I dare ask about what or _who_?"

"You could ask, but I wouldn't tell you," Kathryn replied.

"It's okay," her mother retorted, "I know better than to ask."

She resumed chopping carrots while her mother prattled on about who was coming to dinner and the latest news from various family friends that Kathryn had known her whole life. So-and-so had a baby, so-and-so had gotten married, so-and-so was now engaged. Kathryn half listened as she finished the carrots and moved on to celery, onions and tomato. After she had finished chopping the vegetables, she turned to her mother. "What else can I do?"

"Why don't you go upstairs and get ready? I can finish up in the kitchen." Gretchen looked at the chronometer. "Besides, your sister and Andrew should be here soon. I can get them to help with anything else I need."

"Are you sure, Mom?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Go on."

Kathryn walked up the stairs of the old Indiana farmhouse to her childhood bedroom and the bathroom she had shared with her sister. She ran a hot water shower; her mother preferred water to sonic, and as she let the hot liquid drip onto her body, she found herself thinking about her mother's chatter. It seemed that nearly all the old family friends were married, engaged, or otherwise attached. Many of them had children, and she imagined her sister would soon be included in that number. She supposed it was the natural course of life for most people. At one time, she had assumed it would be the natural course of life for her, as well, but she was long past believing that now. As a young woman, she had been ahead of the curve, knowing what she wanted from life and how she was going to get it. Now, she feared that life was leaving her behind.

In the year since _Voyager_ 's return, she had been to several functions with old family friends. She smiled and carried on pleasant conversations with them, but she didn't know what to say when the topic turned to someone's wedding, pregnancy, or child. When those conversations started in earnest, and the gathering turned into a discussion of the best nursing methods or the greatest new child's toy, she found herself sitting silently in the corner or making her way into the kitchen to help her mother with the coffee. She didn't need to have a child of her own; she had long since given up on that idea. But these conversations only highlighted her fear that she didn't belong and never would. Everyone else's lives had changed in such different ways from her own, and she felt out of place, even in what was supposed to be her home.

She stepped out of the hot shower into a steamy bathroom, where she dried herself with a fluffy towel. She dried her hair, dressed, and applied her makeup. She slipped on her heels and walked down the stairs, her shoes clicking on the hard wood floor. Gretchen emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. "Well, don't you look lovely."

"Thanks, Mom." She wore her black dress from the Voyager party. None of the guests would be the same tonight, anyway.

"There's mulled wine in the kitchen. Your sister and Andrew are here; they're upstairs in the bedroom getting themselves settled. I'm going to go upstairs and fix my face."

Kathryn laughed. "Your face is just fine, Mom. It doesn't need fixing."

"Well, it can use a little help."

As Gretchen made her way up the stairs, Kathryn went into the kitchen and ladled some hot, spiced wine into a mug for herself. She took it into the living room, near the Christmas tree, and sat on the sofa. There was a fire crackling in the fireplace, and she took in the sights and smells of Christmas - the pine scent of the tree, the spiced wine, the faint smell of burning wood from the fireplace. She could remember being a young girl in this same room on Christmas Eve. She could remember the anticipation she felt for their guests' arrival, the joy she had taken in helping her mother and sister decorate the Christmas tree each year, the excitement of looking at the wrapped packages and guessing at what might be inside. _Christmas is really meant to be shared with children,_ she thought. _They find so much joy and excitement in it. The love that is meant to be shared at Christmas is the love of a family._

She wondered what that meant for her future. With no children, no family, would she still wind up just like the bitter, old Admiral Janeway from the future? Would she, like that version of herself, spend Christmas regretting the life she had not chosen? Would she wish, each year, that the following year would be different?

She gazed into the flickering lights of the fire and tried to imagine what the future would bring. _It used to be so easy to picture the future,_ she thought. Her childhood dreams of adulthood had been filled with visions of family, love and a fulfilling and exciting career in Starfleet. Now, when she looked into the flames, trying to imagine what life might be like in a year, or two, or five or ten, she couldn't picture anything at all, and the images that did come to mind weren't pictures she wanted to dwell on. She took another sip of wine and tried to shake off the melancholy.

 _Don't be melodramatic, Kathryn,_ she chided herself. Y _ou'll be an aunt to Phoebe's children, and to Miral, and to dozens of other Voyager children. You'll grow old surrounded by friends who are your chosen family. Your experience at the party is proof of that. And your friendship with Chakotay. Certainly that's something worth being grateful for._

Chakotay. Her thoughts returned to him. She wondered what had come up on the station that had occupied him for the last few days, so much so that he had been unable to call her. It had been the longest gap in their communication since he'd left Earth. She wondered if he was ill or injured, but imagined that she would have heard about that through Starfleet communications channels. A small part of her feared that perhaps he'd met someone new who was occupying his time and attention.

Gretchen came down the stairs, ready for the party. "I'm going to get myself some wine, and I'll join you," she said, gesturing at Kathryn to remain seated. A moment later, her mother returned, steaming mug of mulled wine in hand. "Pretty, isn't it?" she asked, gesturing to the tree.

"It's beautiful, Mom. You did a great job decorating it."

"Thanks. I love this time of the evening, before everyone comes. It's so peaceful."

"What are Phoebe and Andrew doing up there?" Kathryn asked. "They haven't come down yet?"

"It's your sister, Kathryn. You know how long she takes to get ready."

A knock sounded at the front door, and Kathryn looked at the chronometer. "What time did you tell people to come over?"

"Not for another half an hour. Someone must be early." The knock came again. "Why don't you answer it?"

With a sigh, Kathryn stood, leaving her wine on the coffee table. She was not anxious for the arrival of family friends with whom she would have to share pleasantries and small talk. She wondered who had arrived so early as she turned the door knob and opened the door to the cold Indiana night. The first thing she saw were the boots, black, Starfleet issue boots, and her breath caught in her throat as her eyes traveled up the black pants legs to the red shirt, and finally to a very familiar set of dark eyes.

He was grinning. "Merry Christmas, Kathryn." She stood, speechless, as her hand raised to cover her mouth. She couldn't believe her eyes. He took her hand from her mouth, and captured her other hand with his. "Well?" he asked.

"Is this real? Is it really you?" she asked.

"It's really me." And then, she was in his arms, and he was holding her tight, and she was wrapping her arms around him, inhaling his scent, and she knew that it was real.

"Why don't you two come in from out of the cold?" Gretchen Janeway asked from the doorway behind them.

Kathryn disengaged from Chakotay's embrace and whirled around. "Did you know about this?"

"I wasn't about to show up at your mother's house on Christmas Eve unannounced," Chakotay said, ushering Kathryn inside. "Hello, Mrs. Janeway."

"Glad you could make it, Chakotay. Welcome."

Kathryn noticed the overnight bag that he had brought with him. "You came to dinner in uniform," she observed.

"No time to change before I got here. Actually, my original plan was to surprise you at the reunion, but we got delayed by a plasma storm, and this was the fastest I could get here."

"But what about Admiral Holt? I thought there was no way you could get time away from the station."

"The situation with the Romulans seems to have calmed down for now. I guess that Admiral Holt has been so pleased with my work that he decided to grant me a holiday bonus." He enfolded her in another warm embrace. "He let me come and spend Christmas with you."

"I'm so glad you're here," Kathryn murmured in his ear. "I've missed you so much."

He pulled away reluctantly. "Is there somewhere I can change? I really didn't intend to show up for dinner in uniform."

Kathryn showed Chakotay to the guest bedroom where he could change his clothes. Phoebe and Andrew emerged from her room, and introductions went all around. By that time, other guests had started arriving for the party, and Kathryn and Phoebe were required downstairs. Kathryn greeted guests, took their coats, and offered them mulled wine, but all the while her mind was reeling from Chakotay's arrival.

About fifteen minutes later, she had just taken a coat from one of her mother's friends when she turned and saw him coming down the stairs, wearing a sharp black suit. He reached the bottom of the stairwell and kissed her cheek. "You clean up pretty well, Commander," she said as she turned away from him to hang the coat up in the closet.

"You," he said, taking her hand and turning her back to him, "look stunning, Kathryn. The recording you sent me on the night of the party pales in comparison to the real thing."

She blushed, and, keeping his hand in hers, led him into the party. With Chakotay by her side, suddenly talking to all the old family friends didn't seem like such a daunting task. She had forgotten how charming he could be, and he quickly made all the ladies fall in love with him. He was also an excellent conversationalist with the retired admirals who were friends of the family, and he and Phoebe's Andrew hit it off instantly. Chakotay seemed to fit in seamlessly, even though he was from a completely different world than the one she had grown up in.

Her mother, knowing Chakotay was coming, had arranged the dinner place cards accordingly, and left a vacant spot for him next to Kathryn. The long dinner table was filled with laughter and the pouring of wine, and Chakotay's leg pressed up against hers under the table. After dinner, while everyone sat around and talked, his hand found hers under the tablecloth, and he caressed the back of her hand with his thumb.

Finally, Gretchen ushered everyone into the living room and sat down at the piano. "Sorry about this," Kathryn whispered, her hand snugly around his arm. "My mother insists that everyone gather around and sing Christmas carols every year. Even the old admirals do it; they know better than to disobey an order from my mother."

Chakotay laughed. "There's nothing to apologize for. This is fantastic."

Gretchen played, "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing," "We Three Kings," "Jingle Bells," and, of course, to round out the evening, "We Wish You a Merry Christmas." Chakotay, who didn't know any of the words, laughed as Kathryn sang badly out of tune and enjoyed watching the retired admirals try to beg off and get an earful from Gretchen Janeway.

Coffee and dessert were served, and one by one, the guests started to depart, wishing everyone in the house a "Merry Christmas!" on their way out the door.

"Merry Christmas!" Kathryn called after the last guest, because she felt truly merry for the first time in a long time.

She and Chakotay, along with Phoebe and Andrew, cleaned up from dinner. "We've got it, Mom," she assured her mother. "You can go to bed if you're tired."

"All right," Gretchen agreed. "Good night, sweetie. Don't stay up too late, or Santa won't come." She gave the same warning to her other daughter and went up to bed. After they'd finished cleaning up, Phoebe and Andrew went upstairs to bed, too, leaving Kathryn and Chakotay alone downstairs.

"Come sit by the fire with me," she said, leading him by the hand to the sofa where she'd been sitting alone only a few hours earlier. She pulled him down next to her, and for a long moment, they just looked at each other in silence. He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and his hand lingered, caressing her cheek.

"Kathryn," he whispered, leaning forward, closing the distance between them until his lips brushed hers. The brief taste of her only made him crave more, and his hand cradled her head as he brought his mouth to hers again, kissing her passionately. Her lips opened beneath his, and he tasted her for the first time, drinking her in. Her hands came up to cup his face.

When they finally broke the kiss, she was breathless. They sat, facing each other, foreheads touching, his face in her hands and his hand resting on the nape of her neck. "Chakotay," she breathed, and then their lips met again.

After a long, languid exploration of each others' mouths, she settled beside him on the sofa, nestling herself into the crook of his arm. He traced circles on her knee with his free hand, and she rested one hand on his broad chest. "What did you have to promise Admiral Holt to get this leave?" she asked.

"Nothing, honestly. I think he just likes me."

"Really?"

"Well, I did promise him I wouldn't be away from the station next Christmas. But we can cross that bridge when we come to it, right?"

"We?" she asked.

He pulled away so he could look her in the eye. "We," he answered firmly. "There is a 'we' now, isn't there? A you-and-me? Chakotay and Kathryn? A couple?"

"Chakotay and Kathryn," she echoed. "A couple. That sounds… good."

"I'm glad. It's been hard to tell exactly what's been going through your mind these last few months."

"I know. Same for you. That's why I wanted to come and see you so badly."

He smiled. "It worked out okay, even though you couldn't."

"Oh, Chakotay. Earlier, I was sitting on this couch wondering if I was going to turn out to be the bitter, angry Admiral Janeway after all. I was thinking I'd end up old and crotchety, spending every Christmas alone with my regrets."

"I don't think that's going to happen."

"No, I had already decided it wouldn't."

"What made you decide that?" he asked, holding her hand against his chest.

"Our crew. I knew they wouldn't let it happen."

"Good. I certainly won't. You might end up old and crotchety, but you won't end up alone, because I'll be old and crotchety along with you."

She laughed. "I certainly hope so. That sounds wonderful."

He sat back against the couch, tucking her against his side again. "It does, doesn't it?"

They sat there together, basking in each other's warmth and love, listening to the crackling of the fire. After a long silence, she murmured, "Now, it feels like Christmas."

He chuckled, his chest rumbling beneath her ear. "It didn't before?"

She shook her head. "I kept feeling like something was missing, but I couldn't put my finger on what it was."

"And now?"

"It was you," she murmured. "You're what's been missing."

"Kathryn, I've been right here."

"No," she corrected him, tracing circles on his chest, dipping her fingers between the buttons of his shirt. "You've _been_ several thousand light years away. _Now_ you're right here."

"And just what do you plan to do about that?" he asked, capturing her hand in his and pressing his lips to her palm.

"Well," she replied slowly, "I didn't get a chance to give you a tour of the house earlier."

"You didn't."

She stood, tugging on his hand to pull him with her. "Come on," she said. "First stop is the bedroom." Laughing, she led him up the stairs. By the time they reached the bedroom, she was in his arms, being thoroughly kissed. Chakotay used his foot to shut the door behind them, and, still entwined in his arms, Kathryn reached out to shut off the light.

They were well and truly in bed long before Santa came.


	6. EPILOGUE

_**EPILOGUE**_

 _December 25, 2380_

"Maya, look at the camera," Kathryn encouraged as she and Chakotay struggled with their squirmy little girl.

Chakotay held Maya up and shook a little rattle in front of her. She giggled in delight and tried to grab the toy from her daddy. "You're not going to get her to look at the camera, Kathryn. We should just send the message."

"All right," she sighed. "Computer, record subspace transmission."

"Recording," the computer replied.

"Hello and Merry Christmas to all of you!" Kathryn said. "Chakotay and I wanted to send a special holiday message to our crew, since we were unable to attend the _Voyager_ reunion this year."

"As you can see," Chakotay said, bouncing the little girl in his arms, "we've been a little busy."

Kathryn wrapped an arm around her husband and touched the ten-month old baby's belly. "This is our daughter, Maya. We would have liked to introduce her to you in person, but the adoption was only finalized last week, and we're still getting settled with her here on Deep Space Three."

"Fortunately," said Chakotay, "Maya is doing great, and she's adjusting well to her new family and her new home. She's probably taking it more in stride than her parents are."

"We are so grateful for her, and we wanted to share our gratitude and love with the rest of our Voyager family," said Kathryn. "We can never thank you all enough for all your support and friendship over the past year, and you know, even though we're far away, you can always call on us if you need anything. And," she added conspiratorially, "we do have some pull here on Deep Space Three and can arrange excellent guest quarters for anyone who wants to come and visit."

"We hope that next year brings us all together again," Chakotay said. "And until then, we look forward to sharing many subspace communications with all of you."

They looked at each other and smiled, then looked back to the computer terminal. Maya let out a loud squeal, and they both laughed. "Merry Christmas!" they said together, and ended the message.

"Do you think that was all right?" Kathryn asked, looking up at her husband.

"I think it was perfect. Our crew will love it."

"They'll probably laugh at us."

"They'll think it's wonderful." He leaned over and kissed her. "I think you're wonderful."

"You're a sentimental old fool," she teased.

"Probably. Do you want to take her for a minute?" He handed Maya over to her mother.

"Sure." Kathryn took their daughter in her arms and walked over to the Christmas tree they had set up in their quarters. She started pointing out the different ornaments to the little girl, who was mesmerized by the brightly colored lights and shiny decorations.

Chakotay watched them as he walked over to the kitchen counter to finish preparing their Christmas breakfast. The past year had brought huge changes for both of them. After they had spent the previous Christmas together, it had not taken them long to decide that they wanted to be married. Kathryn's dissatisfaction with her job had led her to seek other opportunities within the admiralty, but they had struggled to find a post where they would be able to stay together.

A few months later, Admiral Holt had called Chakotay into his office, knowing of his recent marriage to Admiral Janeway and having heard of her desire for a new post. "It's well past time for me to retire, my boy," he'd said in his typically gruff manner. "I don't suppose that admiral of yours would like to command a space station." Kathryn had accepted the position immediately.

They had discussed the idea of children in depth, and had decided, without too much debate, that there were so many needy children in the galaxy that it made more sense for them to adopt than to try to have a biological child of their own. They had met Maya in an orphanage on Dorvan Five and had immediately fallen in love with her. It had taken time for the adoption to be finalized, and while they had hoped to bring her home weeks earlier, they hadn't been able to bring her back to Deep Space 3 until the day before the _Voyager_ anniversary party. So, this year, they had decided to have a quiet Christmas at home, just the three of them. Chakotay pulled the muffins out of the oven and set them on the counter to cool, then went over to join Kathryn and Maya by the tree.

Kathryn nuzzled her daughter's head and watched her tiny hand reach for a glowing tree ornament. "Just look," she said softly. "Don't touch." She felt Chakotay's arms encircle them both, and she looked up at him, planting a kiss on his lips.

"Breakfast is ready," he said.

She nodded. "We have everything we need right here, don't we Maya?"

Chakotay chuckled and kissed each of them on the forehead. "My girls," he said.

"My family," Kathryn replied, snuggling into his embrace.

"Our family," he amended.

"Yes." She looked up at him. "Last year on Christmas, do you remember I told you something was missing?"

"I remember."

"For the first time in a long time, I don't feel like anything is missing."

He smiled. "You found the Christmas you were looking for."

She stood on her tiptoes to kiss his lips. "I found you. I found home."

He wrapped his arms around her, and they stood, their daughter nestled between them, looking at their Christmas tree. It had been a long journey, longer than the journey of the Wise Men in the original Christmas legend, but standing there on that Christmas Day, they knew in their hearts the peace and love that were the true meaning of Christmas.


End file.
